The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1) (4 page)

“I hope she doesn’t,” he says, changing her ruling expression to anger.

“Don’t disrespect me.” Her jaw clenches. “Not here, not now, not ever.”

“Fuck off.”

There’s a short pause before she smacks his face with the back of her hand.

I straighten in the chair, alarmed. Did anyone else see that? Or are they too far adrift in la-la land? Fuck! She did it again. And he’s just standing there with his chest out and a big grin, taunting her. Several women clap, thinking it’s another performance.

“If the wine’s the problem, I’ll pay for it,” I say, loud enough for her to hear without disturbing the mass of guests.

She takes the bottle and massages his red cheek. The action appears motherly, but also provocative, and by his taut muscles and shaking head I can tell he’s annoyed. Each word spoken in his ear causes more tension until he jerks away.

She’s pleased with his reaction, walking toward me with swinging arms and a clink of her heels on the patio stone. “Everything’s included with your room except for the men.” She places the wine on the table and leans closer, insuring wandering ears don’t hear. “Quinn shouldn’t have spoken to you earlier, and he shouldn’t be speaking to you now. This is a business. He’s not free.” Smokey breath and long fingers trail my bare arm—the warm summer night iced over by her measured words. She glares over her shoulder, seeing him waiting with crossed arms. “That young man has an exceptional touch... attentive hands that work every single muscle... penetrating deep into your most desired flesh. Deep,” she hints. “I guarantee he’ll take away your aches and pains, leaving you with a spectacular afterglow.”

Her fingers perform a tantalizing walk to my shoulder, inducing a shiver when they reach my neck.

“Enjoy your stay, Ms. Adlyn Moore.”

Chapter Three

The memory of that final night before my mom was killed is set on repeat in my head... every day... never diminishing... never permitting peace.

“I’LL BE GENTLE,” he says, sliding his finger out of me. “You ready?”

The red candle flickers on my nightstand, casting a soft glow onto our nude bodies. I’m nervous and my stomach’s in a knot, but I nod, turning away when I see the condom wrapper. The crinkling lasts longer than I had imagined. He didn’t rip it open with his teeth and start fucking me within five seconds like in the movies. The wait seems to last minutes, too long when it’s your first time. I don’t want to think. I just want to do it.

“Please hurry,” I whisper.

He rolls it on with our lips pressed together...
I can do this
... the bed creaks when he shifts on top...
it won’t hurt
... my legs are spread open by his knees.

“Relax,” he says.

His erection touches my clit and I inhale, my inner-thigh muscles tightening as he slides his length further down.

“It’ll be okay. Promise.”

He tries to part me, striving to push inside, but my hands grip his hips, holding him back.

“Sorry.” My voice is jittery.
Let it happen. Deep breaths. It’s time.

“Addie. Trust me.” He nudges. “Relax. Please.”

“Just wait.” I’m embarrassed to look at him, focusing on the candle instead of his face. I want to do this, but I’ve been overthinking it. Anticipating what should and shouldn’t happen, and it’s not playing out like my dreams. There’s no laughter or passion. He’s not saying he loves me. My expectations of this moment shouldn’t have been so high.

“Just give me a sec,” I say.

I’m not apprehensive about giving head, and I’ve heard I’m good at it, too. Fucking amazing... that’s what my boyfriends have said. It’s because of all the practice I’ve had. I’ve spent my time pleasing guys with my hands and my mouth, over and over, time and time again—a blowjob queen. And I’ll let guys finger me and eat me out. I fucking love oral sex. None of that’s a big deal. It’s this penetration thing that makes me nervous. It’s all about getting it in.

Maybe I should lick his dick and give him a finger swirl in his ass... only that’s not enough anymore. He needs more. And I should need more.

“Talk to me,” he says. “What’s wrong? I thought we were gonna do this?”

“I think... I just... I’m sorry. I’m stressed it won’t be perfect.”

He smiles, skimming my chin with the back of his hand. “Stop thinking and start feeling.” Our mouths part and tongues meet, his hand moving down my side. He rubs his dick along my opening, wetting the tip before advancing, trying to get inside.

I squeeze against him, making it difficult for both of us. Restricting any entry.

“I’m gonna push in. Okay?”

I steady myself, irritated that I’m being so rigid. “Do it.”

My fingernails dig into the blanket while he drives in, triggering a pinch and a loud “oww!”

“Shhh, shh-shh. It’s okay. It’ll get better. Give it a minute.” He slides in and out as I bite my bottom lip, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling. I’m stretched wider with each lunge, and my inner flesh tugs when he glides back. It’s uncomfortable at first, but he’s right, it does get better.

“Yes,” he moans. His mouth falls open, his eyes close, and his cheeks turn red. “Yes. Yes.”

The movements grow wilder, his groin rubbing over mine in short thrusts, much faster than I envisioned. The bed squeaks. He takes quick breaths. Faster. Harder. He grabs my ass with both hands as his stomach stiffens.

“Fuck...”

The lengthy slides change to short pounds before he powers forward one last time.

The room’s silent.

His arms give out.

And he collapses as he cums.

“Damn it.” He exhales heavily against my shoulder. “I couldn’t last once I got inside.”

“It was good,” I lie. “Not as bad as my friends said it would be.”

“So we can do it again?” He pulls out and kisses my neck. “Tomorrow?”

“Well, well, well... isn’t life full of surprises?”

“Mom!”

• • •

My mom was furious, my boyfriend ran out, and I felt like trash, and not just because I got caught fucking in my childhood bedroom, but because I lied to her about what I was doing that night. I said we were seeing a movie, not screwing in my room. She detested liars, and this situation truly got to her.

I never had a chance to tell her I was sorry. After her bedroom door slammed in my face, she mumbled that we’d talk in the morning... right after her jog.

Weeks later, when I told Nadine what happened before her death, she mentioned my mom had caught my dad with a woman. Same scenario. Walking in on him cheating in their home. It’s why they divorced. The memory must’ve been another reason she exploded that night... I just didn’t know. It felt so wrong. And now I wish I could take it all back. He wasn’t the right guy. It wasn’t the right time... and I know when I meet a man I’m wild about the nerves and reluctance will disappear. I’m sure of that.

And I can’t stop thinking it was my fault. My mom wasn’t paying attention to who was around during her jog because she was thinking about the night before. She might still be alive if she weren’t so focused on my lies. I distracted her. I fucked up.

“Fuck.” I pace in my suite, upset after spending the last three hours flip-flopping between thoughts of her and this guy Quinn. And the sole reason he’s in my head is because he’s so goddamn hot. I hate the way my mind works—allowing my brain to take a backseat to my pussy. Talk about superficial. I should at least get a last name before I start thinking about his dick. An attraction’s one thing, but there has to be more.

All this relationship and sex stuff is frustrating, not to mention confusing when you have such awful role models. The way my mom’s generation views love has me questioning what I want from a guy. She lived a solitary life, never trusting men or dating until the month before she died. Jess acts like a dick-hungry teenager. And Brian and Nadine sleep around, but don’t consider it cheating. They’re broken. That’s not gonna last. And my friends back in Jersey are all going the “friends with benefits” route. I’m on an entirely different path than them, looking for devotion and loyalty. To me, a hot dog’s more enjoyable when it comes with a bun and condiments.

“You stupid fuck. Why the hell did you say that?”

Tyler’s voice rages outside my open window. Quinn’s pushed toward the pool, stuck in a headlock, swinging to get free. They struggle, knocking over loungers and small tables.

“Asscock! Show some respect. She’s our mom for Christ’s sake.” Tyler shoves him into the water and stands erect with his arms on his hips, letting out his signature malicious laugh. A glob of spit hits the stone patio as he clutches his nuts like he’s some tough guy, waiting for Quinn to surface... gifted with a middle finger when he does.

“Do it again, buddy, I dare you. I’ll break that finger right off and stick it up your ass.”

He tries to crawl out, but Tyler’s bare foot lands on his forehead and he’s driven back in.

“Cool off... and make sure you apologize to her in the morning.”

“What a shithead,” I mutter.

“Tyler!” Roxanne walks out, her tits bobbing under an open black silk robe. Smeared lipstick... tangled black hair... holding a pack of cigarettes. I’d say she just got laid. “I told you not to do this again. Next time you cause a scene—”

“I just came down for a smoke.”

She puts a cigarette in his mouth like he’s some helpless invalid, even lighting it for the bastard.

“Three minutes then get back upstairs.”

“I already gave it to her twice, the chick’s out cold.” He inhales, pointing to a second-story window. “I’m done with that one for the night. She’s not even shaved.”

She clutches his jaw and the cigarette drops, sending a trail of orange ashes into the pool. “You’re not finished until morning. Six o’clock, no sooner. You understand?” She squeezes until he nods, releasing him with a violent motion before looking down at Quinn. “And you,” she orders, “you better stop provoking him.”

“I didn’t do jackshit.” He floats to the opposite side, removing his shirt and jeans and hurling the wet clothing onto a lounger. “Cocksucker.”

“That’s right dipshit, nice comeback.” Tyler grabs his dick. “My cock gets sucked every night, unlike your little pecker.”

“Enough! Tyler, back to work.”

I duck before they see me spying from the window. What a pig. And young. All the men here are. I wonder if it’s a job requirement to be under twenty-five and act like a Neanderthal.

The exit door under my room thuds, signaling I’m in the clear to take another peep. Gradually, my head lifts above the sill.

She’s still outside, smoking as she strolls next to him. Her tits and olive skin illuminated by one of the vacated fire pits, revealing the huge size of her tawny areolas. Huge. They’re so different than my non-existent tomboy boobs. I’ve never seen ‘em so big in person—makes me feel inadequate—somehow less of a woman.

She hums then sings a pleasant sounding tune, a sharp contrast to her behavior seconds ago. Slow and soft, her voice lingers into the shadowy night.

“Mmm-mm-mm, and good night, thy mother’s delight, mmm-mm.”

“Stop,” Quinn says, perturbed.

Fireflies spark and die out, their ephemeral presence matching the reflected stars rolling into diminishing waves. His tense wet shoulders glistening as he runs his hand through his wet hair.

In the woods beyond the pool, an owl answers Roxanne’s gentle words, sounding sorrowful, beckoning her to continue the song.

“Bright angels beside, my darling abide. Mmm-mm-mm.”

“Did she pay?” He pushes off from the concrete wall, floating on his back with his arms spread wide. His gaze is set on the dark sky, his ears underwater... not expecting an answer. “Or did you send someone else in my place?”

“They will guide thee at rest, mm-mm, thou shalt wake on my breast.”

Her robe falls to her waist as she saunters closer to his drifting body.

“Lullaby and goodnight.”

Passing him, she flicks her cigarette onto his chest.

“Piss off.” He sends a splash onto her legs. “You’re lucky I don’t—”

“Don’t what?” She kneels next to him, waving a finger to come closer. The robe drops to the ground and bunches around her feet, unveiling a woman with all the normal curves and extra weight around the middle. “Lucky you don’t what? Leave?” She laughs, still trying to lure him to the edge with her finger. He lowers his legs so he’s upright and treading water. “Just because you’re my number one request from the sixty plus crowd doesn’t mean I can’t find another massage boy for them to drool over. You’re replaceable, like all the rest. Behave, or I’ll take you back to that hellhole you used to call home.”

His legs stir under the dim water, refusing to swim closer. He stares and waits. Silent.

“That’s what I thought... clean the cigs out of the pool and get some sleep. A new batch arrives tomorrow afternoon. People in need of an escape—two of them wanting your care.”

Her robe’s toted in one hand, the other one stroking a tat on her shoulder as she hums and heads back inside. What a bitch.

I drop under the windowsill, waiting to hear the door shut and the vibration of the floor when she enters the building.

She’s gonna take him back where? I heard Tyler say she’s their mom, but that can’t be... Jesus, I hope not. Only a demented parent would parade around naked in front of her adult son. Damn, now I feel kinda bad for the guy.

My head rises, seeing him climb out of the pool to get a beer from the patio bar. After a long stretch and a twist of his torso, left, then a quick swing right, he wades back in at the shallow end, sitting on the steps with the bottle. He peels the label as he drinks, ignoring the laughter and moans coming from nearby rooms.

“Fuck it.” I hurry into my bikini, grabbing a hoodie and a towel.

Spending the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, forever lost in my head, seems more harmful than swimming in the dark with a stranger. I’m doing this. And I have to admit he’d have a chance with me if I had met him at school and not here, or if we lived in the same city. Plus, what I just saw was such bullshit. If nothing else, the guy needs someone to talk to, same as me.