Page 19 of Loving Jared

Eleven

Jared followed Amy back to her house where she spent half an hour helping her sisters get ready for bed. She threw a distracted smile at him as she went streaking through the living room in search of a stuffed unicorn named Clarence. Then, she ran back through the living room with a multicoloured toy in her hands.

Jared grinned to himself, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa. He didn’t mind waiting one bit. He was enjoying this small glimpse into the domesticity that went on next door to him.

Finally, after another five minutes, Amy dropped onto the sofa next to him sighing loudly. She looked tired but satisfied, as though she loved the bedtime routine. Jared wanted nothing more than to drag her across his lap and plunder her with kisses. Maybe even go to second base and put a hand up her shirt.

But first, he needed some information. "Your dad called today. Want to tell me about it?"

Amy's face dropped in disappointment and she shrank back on the sofa. Jared didn't like that, so he reached out, plucked her off her side of the couch and set her across his lap, cradling her back in his arm and holding her against him with a hand across her knees. She didn't protest, but it took her a moment to get comfortable.

"Tell me about it, Amy. It'll make you feel better." Jared softened his voice, hoping it would help her open up.

She sighed deeply and settled against his arm, dropping her head into his neck. Jared ran a hand over her smooth dark hair, reveling in the softness and breathing in her strawberry shampoo scent.

"He murdered my mom, right here in this house. I heard him do it, saw her body after… when the coroner took her out." She shuddered against him, and he held her closer. "Yet, there's no remorse in him. He doesn't call often, but when he does it's always for money, or for something else he needs. It's never to check on us, to see if we’re okay. He's never once apologized for killing her. For taking our mother away."

Amy's voice hitched and it took her several deep breaths to get herself back under control. Jared almost wished she would break down and cry against him. He would comfort her, talk to her, help her. He suspected she never really opened up about this.

"Do you give him what he wants when he asks for money and other things?" Jared asked, trying to keep his voice gentle.

She didn't say anything and Jared knew the answer. He shook his head. "You can't do that anymore, Amy."

She didn't say anything for several long seconds, then said in a small voice, "But he's my father."

Jared didn't remember his parents. As far as he was concerned, his best friend Vince was mother, father, brother and anything else he needed. Jared acted as the same for Vince. They’d both grown-up as orphaned brats in a motorcycle clubhouse. Though he’d never had it confirmed, Jared suspected that they'd been sold to the club. As children, they'd made excellent drug runners. No one suspected children as young as they'd been. Their sharp wit and fast reflexes were prized by the club.

Unfortunately, as they grew into tall, gangly teens, the club’s use for them dwindled, along with its loyalty.

Jared tried to put himself in Amy’s shoes, tried to imagine having a complete family, with all of its joys and all of its problems. "I understand he's your dad, Amy, but you can't enable him. He'll never learn to take care of himself, never understand what he did to this family as long as you're helping him."

"I know," she said in a small voice. "I just hope he doesn't get out."

Jared decided that he better start looking into her father's situation. If Michael Funk was at any risk of getting out of prison, Jared wanted to know immediately. It didn't seem likely that a man who murdered his wife would get out after only a couple years, but Jared had seen more fucked up things in his time, so he wouldn't put it past the justice system. People with minor drug charges could rot in jail for 20 years, 30 years, a lifetime, while others, like Amy's father, in for murder, could get out in 10 to 15. Didn't seem fair.

Jared pressed his lips to Amy's head, but didn't say anything. He wanted to make her feel better but refused to lie to her. He wouldn't start their brand-new relationship with any lies.

Instead, he tried for reassuring. "You know you can always talk to me. About anything. I will always listen, and if you want, I'll do what I can to help."

She tipped her head back to look at him, her eyes questioning. She was so achingly beautiful that he just wanted to worship every part of her, wanted to watch her eyes light up with happiness, the clouds of her past drifting away.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked hesitantly, almost as if afraid of the answer.

Jared wanted to use the ‘L’ word, but it wasn't time yet. He didn’t want to freak her out. Besides, he wasn't sure he was ready to say it. He never said it to anyone in his life. Didn't have anyone to say it to except Vince, and Vince wasn't the kind of guy he said something like that to.

"Because I care."

Jared smothered whatever else she intended to say in a long, lingering kiss. As their lips met and a flare of heat erupted between them, the world faded away. It was only the two of them, there on that ratty couch, in a living room littered with children's toys, in a house that had seen more tragedy than any other on the block.

Amy twisted her body until her breasts were pressed against him and she was able to kiss him more fully. Jared didn't hesitate. He crushed her against him, tangling his hand in her hair at the base of her neck and anchoring her to him. His other hand ran up and down her back, hovering just over her ass. As he worked her lips, he slid his hand up under her skirt. He paused for a few seconds and when she didn’t shove his hand away, he continued his upward path, toying with the lacy edge of her panties.

Amy moaned and twisted even more, until she was able to straddle his lap, her knees on either side of him, her crotch pressed down on top of his. She rubbed her covered pussy against the raging hard on he was sporting beneath his jeans. A kaleidoscope of colours shot through Jared's brain, exploding any rational thought he might have had. For a few horrifying seconds, he thought he was going to shoot his load right there in his pants.

Amy's hands roved over his chest and shoulders, then around to his back and up into his hair where she clutched him. Jared wasn't used to this much response in his women. Maybe he'd been doing it wrong, or maybe something was just clicking with Amy. Everything felt so much better. From her kisses, to the press of her breasts, to the wiggle of her hips and ass, to the tight press of her legs on either side of his.

Then, it was his turn to take control. He lifted her right off the couch, swallowing her squeak of surprise, and lowered her down onto her back. He dropped down on top of her, crushing her with his weight and taking her lips in a kiss meant to plunder, steal and ravish. She returned his ardor, kiss for kiss, touch for touch. His brain screamed at him to take her, but the few brain cells he had left, floating around, somewhere towards the back of his head, told him he couldn't fuck her on her living room couch with her siblings only a few rooms away.

He needed to stop.

---