My parents insiston having dinner with us Saturday night. And then we play a board game in the game room. Annie’s gaze keeps going to the wall mural. There’s a lot going on there. It’s graphic, but with small characters similar to ancient wall art my mom found during her travels. Except it depicts the Kama Sutra.
I think Annie’s face has been flushed all evening.
“Do you like the wall painting?” Mom asks like she’s asking about a painting of a vase.
“It’s interesting,” Annie looks back at the tile game in front of us.
“I find it fascinating how repressed a country can be, but when you look at their art, it’s filled with graphic depictions of sex and violence. There was this country house in England I visited that had the most interesting carvings in the woodwork. I didn’t want to duplicate it, but Dante’s Inferno inspired me to do something a little different with that empty wall.”
Dad keeps his eyes on the board as he tries to determine what to pick next. “Naomi was an art major and is a buyer for several museums and private collectors. She loves finding unique pieces to add to our own collection.”
Annie takes a drink of water and then picks up some tiles to add to her board. “I’ve enjoyed exploring the house and finding new pieces.”
Mom beams. “I could show you the catalogues of what I’ve found for buyers. Some of the pieces range from ancient to a few years old. From a few hundred dollars to a few million. Art is fascinating. It’s part of what makes us alive.”
I take Annie’s hand, and she gives me a smile. I figured she’d be anxious to get away from my parents, but I think she might actually be enjoying talking with them and playing board games.
It’s a novelty to me now, but when I was younger, we used to play games every Friday night. I couldn’t imagine ever getting back to this place, but it’s comfortable. And the longer my parents are home, the less I want them to leave.
But I’m also not going to pretend they won’t leave again. They didn’t quit their jobs.
It’s almost eleven when I finally call it, and tell my parents good night. Mom draws Annie in for a hug.
“Good night, sweet girl.”
“Good night, Naomi.” Annie raises her hand to wave good night to my dad, and I lead her up to my room. “They take this staying over thing seriously. I’m surprised they didn’t offer me my own room.”
“Did you want your own room?” I close the door and lock it.
Shaking her head, she gives me a flirty look over her shoulder. She walks to the bed and sits on the edge of it. Her loose, flowy blouse makes me want to slide it off her to reveal those curves I know she’s hiding.
“Did you enjoy your evening, baby girl?” I unbutton my cuffs and roll my sleeve up to my elbow, before doing the same to the other side. Slowly, purposefully.
“Your parents are nice. I haven’t played a board game in years.” Her smile goes a little distant.
“Your father?” I don’t let the moment pass because I know it’s important to remember. To let the ones we lost into our everyday lives.
“Yeah.” She focuses on me. “We used to play a game every weekend. He loved to try new games. At one point we had so many, Mom said he had to get rid of at least half.”
“Did he?” I lean back against the door and cross my arms over my chest, letting her sit in the memory. Not pushing to bring the heat back. We’ll get to it. I like learning about Annie.
She chuckles, and there’s this wicked glint in her eyes. “We hid half of the games. I don’t think she minded because at least she wasn’t tripping over them. But she had to know. We weren’t very sneaky about it. Under beds, in closets.”
“We could play board games anytime you want.” I want her to tell me what she wants. What she needs. So I can be that for her. I want to give her everything.
She arches an eyebrow and leans her hands behind her on the bed. “I’d rather play games with you.”
When she unpacked, she set up one of Damon’s cameras to focus on the bed. I’m going to play with her how I like, but my girl likes an audience, live or recorded.
I rub my fingers across my lips and look her over. “Take off your clothes, baby girl.”
She straightens and lifts the shirt off over her head, letting it float to the ground next to my bed. She drops her bra next. Her breasts are tight peaks waiting for my mouth. My cock throbs, aching to be buried inside her.
Standing, she unbuttons her jeans. Over the course of the evening, she walked barefoot through my house, leaving her sandals next to the door. She shimmies her jeans over her hips and down her legs before stepping out of them. The only thing remaining is her panties.
She hooks her thumbs in the sides and meets my gaze. I don’t say or do anything as she pushes them over her hips and down her legs. They join the rest of her clothes in a pile.
“Get on the bed and crawl to the headboard.”
