Page 71 of Tops
“Things seem to be going well between you two,” my mom said. Her critical eye was back out but foggy under the heavy meal and several glasses of wine during dinner. I wasn’t worried she would be observant enough to guess the secret that we hid from her.
“Did Nessa tell you she moved in with me?” Tanner said, making my eyes go round.
Tanner’s hand squeezed my thigh, and I looked at my mom in horror. There was no way for me to take his words back, and admitting it was only temporary because someone might want to kill me wasn’t a viable option.
“No, she didn’t,” Mom said, her gaze swinging to me. Her mothering glare was much more effective than mine, as I was quickly reminded that she still held on to her parenting power.
“Things are going very well,” I squeaked, as Tanner’s hand moved slightly higher.
Mom’s gaze pinged the small space between us, narrowing her eyes while coming to some mental conclusion. She landed on pleased as her mouth stretched into a smile. I let go of the breath I unknowingly held, looking over at Tanner with my mothering glare. Suggesting he refrain from shit like that in the future. He returned with a smile that promised only wicked thoughts ran through his mind.
I could barely get through the rest of the after-dinner conversation while Tanner continued to rub his hand across my thigh. He would move maddeningly close before ordering a slow and torturous retreat that had me checking the clock on the wall constantly. As soon as it was appropriate to head off to bed, I would get out of this chair.
“Wow. I didn’t realize you knew so much about art.” Mom smiled, looking at me with a glint, telling me just how much she approved of Tanner.
“My mother collected art, and I inherited all her pieces,” Tanner said, his smile faltering.
My mom quickly offered her sympathies, assuming Tanner meant she was dead rather than skipping through some tropical island with her stolen husband. He shrugged it off like a long-healed wound, steering the conversation back into art.
I mostly tuned out the conversation while focusing on my wine. My mom seemed absorbed in the mental stimulation, and the way she smiled warmed me. She had been alone for a long time; it would be good to have company more often. Maybe after this visit, she would reach out to some of her old friends.
“Oh, look at the time,” my mom exclaimed after finishing her glass of wine and glancing at the wall. The large hand was almost at the ten, not precisely what Tanner or I would call a late night.
“Why don’t you let me clean up, and you can head to bed, Mom? We will see you in the morning for breakfast before we leave,” I suggested. I felt a twinge of guilt that this would be the last time Tanner would entertain my mom during dinner. Really, I should tell her that we broke up before Christmas to avoid thinking she needed to get him a present.
My mom didn’t have to be asked twice as she took the rest of the wine bottle and her empty glass with her before she promptly disappeared. Her bedroom was on the main floor, tucked back in the corner with her own bathroom. I wouldn’t have to worry about hearing from her for the rest of the night unless she was coming out to be nosey.
I grabbed my empty wineglass and Tanner’s as I got up from the chair. His hand slid from my thigh as I stood. Our gazes locked, and for a moment, I imagined him pushing me back down on the table and having his way with me before my mom even got behind her bedroom door. Instead, I headed back into the kitchen, only to find most of the dishes already wrapped and put away in the fridge. There were a few plates left in the sink for me to scrub before putting them in the dishwasher, but nothing that would take too long.
I opened the dishwasher door, pulling the rack out while grabbing the scrubbing sponge and turning the water on hot. Each dish only needed a quick scrub and rinse before being stacked inside the empty machine. Tanner fit up behind my back, heating me more than the kitchen water, which was kept at the temperature of Satan’s bathwater.
“How about I wash, you stack,” Tanner whispered into my ear.
I turned the water colder before putting the sponge in his hand. I thought Tanner looked out of place in his professional attire, just standing in my mom’s kitchen. Seeing him stand in the kitchen, all domestic looking, was obscene. It looked like we were about to start some exotic photoshoot rather than cleaning up holiday dishes. My body excessively overheated when we finished, and I hit start on the dishwasher.
“Thought we might still want these,” Tanner said, holding up our unwashed wine glasses before pointing to another opened bottle of wine.
Seemed Mom was coming in here to refill her glass between courses. I grabbed the bottle and divided up the contents between our glasses. Giving him a smirk before bracing my arms on the counter to push myself onto the thick cutting board to sit. My legs swung out of sync with each other while my fingertips brushed against the smooth glass of my cup.
Tanner came up to fit between my spread thighs as if pulled in place by the magnet attraction still spinning between us. Part of me had hoped tonight would be a disaster, just to make another point of how things couldn’t work outside the mutual using agreement. This was still me using Tanner, and in a moment, Tanner using me. But our interactions tonight roleplayed something more.
His arms slid around my waist as he fit himself against me like two connecting puzzle pieces sliding home. He gave me a tender kiss, and I closed my eyes to savor the moment. My hands weaved their way to his hair, loving it when I was the one to mess up his carefully crafted style.
His hands bunched up my dress, exposing more of my legs to the chilled air of the drafty house.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he mumbled against my lips. The nips of his kiss started to turn more urgent. I felt a pull from his hands on the thin material of my dress, dragging it out from under my ass until my exposed cheeks were resting against the counter.
“All the way upstairs,” I giggled.
Tanner growled, tearing his lips away from mine, but only so they could latch on to the delicate skin of my neck. Fire raced through me, and I weighed the pros and cons of having sex here in the kitchen.
“Come on, I’ll show you where,” I said, unable to do that with my mom so close. I pushed against Tanner’s chest to break the contact of his lips against my skin. If I let him keep going, there was no way I would have enough sense to stop him before we ended up doing something too loud for my mom to ignore.
I slid off the counter, grasping his hand in mine while I pulled him toward the steps that led to my bedroom. The last boy that made his way into my room was James Larson, my freshman year of high school. We were studying for a big test, and while I sat the whole evening hoping that he would lean over and kiss me, he was just there to use me for a better grade. Or so it turned out when he told me he had just asked Leslie Connors to homecoming.
Bringing Tanner into my room, I didn’t have to nervously wait for him to lean in. As soon as the door to my room closed, Tanner was on me, pressing me against the smooth wood. His mouth and hands were everywhere, pulling my dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but a set of matching bra and underwear. I decided that I didn’t hateallthe expensive things Tanner bought for me. Notably when they resulted in him taking a step back so he could rake his eyes over my body like he had just been presented with a winning trophy.
He started to unbutton his shirt, but my hands grabbed him. Pulling the material until the strings began to give way and buttons clinked across my room.
