May
Giggling as Oran dragged his belt seductively down my back, I gripped the oven door handle with white-knuckled tightness as he ground his bulge against my ass. Delicious shivers rattled my spine, and I ducked my head and clenched my teeth when he pulled away. He snapped his belt, taunting me, and I stuck out my ass as eagerness weakened my knees.
The sharp slap of real leather against my left cheek surged through me, pushing a moan out of my mouth, and he groped my red, stinging flesh greedily. His rough tongue soothed the spot with a thick layer of saliva, and then he spread my ass cheeks to inhale deep and loud against my thong.
“Where have you been all my life, huh, May?” Grazing his teeth down the silky fabric, keeping my need for him at bay, Oran fisted my hair to pull me flush against his chest. His hot breaths flowed down my open shirt, and I rested my head against his shoulder as we ground together. Tonight was like the ultimate wet dream— no sister, no distractions, no one to worry about, and what seemed like all the time in the world.
“If you came to Washington sooner, maybe you’d know the answer to that by now.” My murmur earned me a groan of agreement, and Oran’s free hand sensually glided down my front. Spreading my legs, I gasped when he cupped my mound outside my thong as rough, chapped lips assaulted the crook of my neck. “This is so nice. I never get the chance to just . . . be a twenty-five-year-old.”
“I’m happy to be the one to give this to you.” Sinking into Oran’s chest, I closed my eyes to savor his heat, and he wrapped a powerful forearm across my chest to caress my cheek. “Is it that difficult?”
“I love my sister, but I’m not supposed to be her mom.” The confession dulled our beautiful moment, and I inhaled deeply as guilt clawed up my throat. Cracking open my eyes, I reached for the stove to lift the lid on the pan of chicken parmesan bubbling away inside. “I don’t want to reach that point of resignation, either. Sarah’s only been living with me for a little less than a year, almost eleven months, and she’s a teenager, but it doesn’t stop me from being responsible for her.”
“I’ve never been in even a remotely similar situation, but I can sympathize with the responsibility part.” Work-hardened palms settled on my sides and squeezed gently, and I peered into the pan to decide it just wasn’t quite melty-cheesy enough. “Having to consider someone else in everything you do, the consequences, the blowback, it’s very restraining.”
“I feel bad for hating it. I feel like my parents don’t care about me as much as they claim because they forced this on me. I mean, up until about two years ago, everything was fine. Sarah was diagnosed when she was ten, so it’s not like they didn’t know about it. One day, it seemed like they just woke up and decided they didn’t want to deal with it anymore. My mom tried to sell it to me as giving Sarah more opportunity in Seattle, but they dumped her on me.” Setting the glass lid back on the pan, I turned to Oran to frown under furrowed brows. “You know, this is the closest thing I’ve come to a date in over a year? I mentioned before I had to split from my partner because Sarah was taking up so much of my time and energy. Going to court for guardianship, trying to get her to stay in school, juggling work . . . it was too much to try to consider another person.”
“He pressured you?” Surprise and disgust roughened Oran’s tone, and he shuffled to sit at the small table against the back wall of the kitchen as I nodded. “That’s so fucked up, May. You realize that, right?”
“I had a feeling he was getting tired of me. We weren’t really compatible, and we were starting to see it. It’s a learning curve, you know that.” Leaning against the counter, I crossed my arms over my chest, and my bra cups dug into my sides as I took a deep breath. “Like I said, I love my sister, but she’s supposed to be my sister.”
“Have you considered trying to figure out a way to smooth things over with your parents?” Scrunching up my nose at that was all the answer Oran needed, and he frowned as he stretched out his legs and propped his elbow to hold his cheek on his fist. He was so handsome at this moment that it almost distracted me from the conversation. His tattoos peeked out from the open collar of his shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing yet more ink, and I wanted to touch and lick it all. “They’re not willing to compromise with their own daughter?”
“My mom and I got into a fight a couple of days before the guardianship hearing when I told her to come because I wasn’t sure I could do this. She told me straight up that Sarah will get put in a group home if I try to send her back. I don’t think our relationship isbad, but . . . ” I could only shrug at the distaste that blazed in Oran’s gaze, and the smell of sauce, cheese, and chicken wafted into my nostrils when I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m doing all I can to try to get her on her own when she’s eighteen. She’s really smart, and if she likes something, it’ll take over her life. It’s just the work thing is a problem.”
“She’s a bird lover, right? Why not try to incorporate that into employment?” Oran took off his glasses to wipe the lenses as he posed his question, and I took a second to lift the lid off the pan again. Satisfied with the cheese, I turned off the burner and grabbed the plates as my mind whirred. I’d gotten Sarah that job at Hansen’s, and it turned into a disaster— of course, by no fault of her own, but she absolutely refused to go back. She wouldn’t even go there to eat.
“You know, I’ve tried. I’m not equipped to deal with this. If Sarah doesn’t like the jobs I offer to help her get, then she can do it herself. Do you know how many people are willing to hire someone with autism? Even a case as mild as hers, borderline, is so difficult to contend with.” Ugliness spread across my chest, and I heaped each plate with a half a chicken breast smothered in sauce and cheese to splatter onto the counter. Bringing both plates to the small, rectangular table, I sat down next to Oran to run both my hands through my hair and around my neck. “I’m sorry. I feel like every time we see each other, I’m complaining.”
“I don’t consider it complaining, May.” My lips quirked up as relief slumped my shoulders, and I shook my head as Oran sat up a little straighter. Twirling my fork around thoughtfully, I cut into one end of my chicken, and a puff of steam plumed in my face. “Thank you for dinner. It smells amazing.”
“Thank you for the sex. It was amazing.” He smirked, reaching to squeeze my knee under the table, and I cast him a curious glance. “So, why did you move here, anyway? How did you get to be the big boss of pretty much the largest employer in Seattle?”
“Ah, my father owned it and a bunch of other stuff. When he got too old, he signed it over to my older brother, but I was going through a really rough patch, so my brother gave it all to me so I wouldn’t drown in my sorrows.” Something dark infected his voice, and Oran cleared his throat roughly as I pushed my forkful past my teeth. “I moved here because the woman I had been in a six-year partnership with had died suddenly. To be honest, it was much more like we were just . . . together. We were friends with benefits at one point, but that evolved into friendship, and it just went on like that.”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Oran.” Mumbling around my bite, I swallowed as soon as I could without choking on the big piece, and he stared at his plate from under tightly knit brows. My heart ached for him, for the blank look on his face, for the turmoil amplified in his eyes by his glasses, and my mouth dried when no words came to mind.
“It’s not so bad anymore. I use the insane amount of work I inherited to keep my mind off it. She had her two best friends with her, so at least she wasn’t alone. In the end, it might even be better this way. I realized that the man I was . . . was someone to be ashamed of. Her death made me see that I needed to change.” Shooting me a wary side glance, Oran licked his lips heavily, and I held my breath in anticipation. “When you told me you were a masochist when I realized you were more into the pain, I was relieved. I used to think that because I enjoyed inflicting pain, I was obligated to break and rebuild. With my last partner’s death, I realized rebuilding someone the exact way I wanted, with complete disregard for who they were at the core, was wrong. It was a disservice to whoever I was with not to embrace who they are, to tear down and build up to support those essential values.”
“Oh, Oran . . . that’s terrible. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He cracked a small smile, and I stood up to sit on his lap and wrap my arms around him. His jaw worked as it nestled against the swell of my breast, and my fingers threaded through his styled, dark hair soothingly. “For what it’s worth, you wouldn’t have been together so long if she didn’t enjoy being with you. I think that’s the part you should hang onto, not the bad stuff.”
“For what it’s worth . . . she’s dead, May.” There was nothing I could say to combat that, so I kept my mouth shut, but Oran didn’t pull away even as he cut into his chicken parmesan. For the first time, I wondered if he was such a great listener because he didn’t want to share himself.
