Valentine Wishes (Baxter Academy Book 1) (7 page)

I
’m never going
to get rid of this hard on now, not after phone sex with Jackie and hearing her come. Her breathing is still heavy, but getting calmer and I close my eyes, imagining her lying naked in the middle of her bed. One hand still over her pussy, enjoying the lingering effects of her orgasm.

Finally she blows out a sigh. “Damn!”

I grin into the phone. “Much better than masturbating alone, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she says after a moment and for a moment I’m speechless.

“You’ve never masturbated?”

“Never felt the need or desire before.”

Maybe that is one of the many differences between boys and girls. “Well, it’s an art most boys perfect by the age of fifteen.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

There’s a smile in her voice and she sounds relaxed. I’m glad she is because I sure as hell am not. “I’ll see you at one?”

“Not so fast, Boy Scout.”

She isn’t really thinking of returning the favor, is she? I’d never had phone sex until today, and she hadn’t either. That hadn’t even been my intention when I called. She was on my mind so I thought confirming the time was a good enough excuse to call. But, when she answered, her sleepy, warm voice shot straight to my dick and there was no coming back.

Hell, she just masturbated for the first time and the very idea that she wants to take me there with words makes my cock harden more. I didn’t even think it could at this state.

“What are you wearing?” Her voice is deep, husky.

“Boxers.”

“Good. So much better than tighty whities.”

“You don’t like briefs?”

“Nope, boxers are so much sexier, kind of like hiding the treasure instead of putting it on display outlined in white cotton.”

“Treasure, huh?” I’ve got the treasure and she’s got the box, and hopefully soon, I’ll be buried in her.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah.” Well most of me is. My cock, not so much.

“Let me see, what to do first?”

I lie back and wait as she ponders her moves.

“First, I could feast my eyes on your body. Caress the ridges of the muscles in your arms and pecs, admire your tight muscular body.”

Really? That is not what I expected to hear, but I like it. Admire huh? I grin.

“Smooth, with perfect ridges. Strong and hard.”

I sure hope she thinks the same thing when she actually sees me without a shirt.

“Your nipples are tight, and I trace around each one with the tip of my finger.”

I follow her lead, surprised when they get harder. I’ve never even touched my own nipples. When getting off, I went straight to my cock to relieve myself.

“Touching isn’t enough, so I straddle you, lean forward and swipe each with my tongue before nipping at you, then swiping again to take away the sting.”

At this rate, I might just come before she gets to my dick.

“Your muscles flex as I trail my hands down your flat abs and hook my fingers at the waist of your boxers and pull them down slowly.”

I follow her lead, not wanting to go slow, but it’s what I made her do.

“There is only skin at first, then hair, and finally, your cock springs free and standing proudly.”

That it is.

“I drag the boxers from the rest of your body and toss them aside before I straddle your thighs.”

If only she was there right now.

“I don’t touch, just admire your body from your shoulders to your balls.”

They tighten at her words.

“My fingers slip beneath your balls, and cradle then roll them in my hand while massaging just behind them while my other hands grasps the base of your cock, slowly squeezing as I move up to the tip. When I get there, my thumb massages the moisture back into the head, and I move my hand up and down, still caressing and playing with your sack.”

I bite back a groan. I had intended on jacking off as soon as I hung up the phone, but this is ten times better.

“But this isn’t enough, is it?” If her voice wasn’t husky and low. “You want my mouth.”

My eyes nearly roll back in my head at the idea. Someday, maybe. Unfortunately, not now.

“Do you have anything to use as a lubricant?”

I’ve got to have something here, but I’ve unpacked very little because I hope to be out of this basement soon.

“Let me see.” I get up off the bed and go into the bathroom, which I am only using at the moment and hope to hell nobody comes down in to the basement and sees me walking around butt assed naked with a raging hard on.

I search the cabinet and then linen closet. Perfect. “Hand lotion.”

“You might just earn another merit badge.”

“Another?”

“You’ve already earned one today. Let’s go for another.”

I chuckle and get back on the bed after locking my door again.

“Squeeze the lotion into your hand. Enough that it doesn’t completely absorb, then rub your palms together, heating it.”

I don’t really need her instructions on this, but I like that she’s giving them anyway.

“Now grasp the top of your cock and slide down, imagining it is my hot mouth. My tongue licks up the underside as I pull up and go back down, taking your deeper and deeper each time. My teeth brush against your head, but I don’t bite, and I go deeper again, until you’re against the back of my throat and can’t go further. Over and over I take you deep, sucking as my hands caress your balls. They start to tighten, pull up as your cock swells further. I keep the rhythm steady because I don’t want you to come too quick.”

I’m so close, but hold back for her.

“You’re there. Just on the brink. Your hips come off the bed and you can’t keep from filling me over and over and you pump against my tongue until you are drained and fall back on the bed.”

I clench my teeth but the groan is still loud as my semen pumps onto my stomach. My heart nearly stopped when I came it was so hard.

Jackie is most definitely going to be the death of me.

I just lay there, trying to get my breath and I swear I can hear her smiling into the phone.

“All better now?” she finally asks.

“More than better.”

“Well, clean yourself up, Boy Scout, and get me at one.”

I
can’t seem
to wipe the grin off of my face as I shower and get dressed. I can’t believe I just had phone sex, and with Brett. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I should also feel relief, which I somewhat do, but it was only a substitute for what I really want. If he could make me that hot with just his words, what the hell will he be like in person?

Theo is grabbing breakfast when I come in the kitchen.

“What are you doing today?” I try and make conversation, but usually he only grunts.

“Hanging out. They start their art classes and I’m not really needed until this afternoon.”

I nod and don’t say anything, marveling at the fact he actually answered. He’s usually not a morning person, but today he seems almost human.

I grab a cup of coffee and piece of bacon Grandmother had fried earlier. “Want to take a walk to the lake? I need to clean up the fire we built last night.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “You and
Brett
were at the lake last night? Late? Fire?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” I argue. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Of course, if he had heard any of my conversation this morning, he’d insist there’d be a very good reason for it to be there.

“I’ll go with. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

That’s about as close as I’m going to get to my brother actually wanting to do something with me so I take it.

“So, you like this guy?” Theo asks as we take the path to the woods.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Me too.”

This surprises me.

“The other guys you dated were okay, but you have a different smile with this one.”

“Smile?”

“Yeah, like you are really glad to see him, or hear his name. The others were just, more like friends in comparison.”

He’s right. I hadn’t thought if that way. I was never in love with the others. They were comfortable and friends. “I just met him Friday.” I remind Theo.

“But, “it only takes a moment”, to quote one of Grandma’s favorite musicals.” He grins at me.

I laugh. “Did she make you watch
Hello, Dolly!
again with her last night?”
It Only Takes a Moment
is her favorite song and insists that was all it took the moment she laid eyes on Grandpa.

Theo’s answer is just a groan. It isn’t a favorite of his or mine, but we could probably quote it from the first piece of dialogue to the closing song and all the lyrics in between because we’ve seen it so many times.

I walk over to the fire pit and stir the ashes and embers, some still warm, while Theo collects more limbs from inside the tree line and stacks them with the other wood.

“It only, takes a moment

For your eyes to meet and then

Your heart knows in a moment

You will never be alone again”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t heard Theo sing in a really long time. I just wish he didn’t sound so sad, but happy. The song is about love. “You have a really nice voice. Why don’t you take choir?”

He just rolls his eyes. At least it would be an easy grade. No reading there.

He stops singing but whistles instead as he goes further into the woods for more limbs and I try to get the rest of the ones in the pit to burn down completely.

He’s singing again when he comes back out.

“Isn't the world full of wonderful things?

I have lost so many things, my job, my future

Everything that people think is important

But I don't care”

With those words I’m worried again. It’s not the
I don’t care because I’m in love
and all things are going to be great, but an I don’t care because he’s given up.

Theo plops down on the ground facing the lake and takes a cigarette out, lighting it, but I don’t harass him about it. I have a much more important discussion.

“What did you mean yesterday, that the smoking isn’t what’s going to get you?”

“What?” he takes a drag, not looking at me.

“When you knocked on your head.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re making too much out of a comment, sis.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look, sometimes my head hurts so bad that I’m convinced my brain’s going to explode inside my skull. That’s all I meant by it.”

I study him. Theo is sullen, gaunt, and there are circles under his eyes. “Haven’t you been sleeping well?”

He smirks. “I haven’t slept well in years.”

“What about the meds?”

“The meds are a fucking joke. They screw with my appetite. I have to force myself to eat because I’m never hungry. My head still hurts all the fucking time. Not the bad sharp pains I used to get, but it’s dull and always present.”

He takes another drag and leans back on his elbows. I don’t say anything because he’s actually talking to me. Normally I get grunts and an attitude. Not today and I’m careful not to interrupt anything.

“That’s why I’m don’t want to go back to school. Ever. It’s the reading.”

“I know.”

“You know what I wish,” he says after a few moments of staring out over the lake.

“What?”

“That we had a school, like the camp.”

“What do you mean?”

“These kids get me, and I get them. No judgment, just acceptance. We’re all so screwed up and there’s no place that works for us where we can get an education without assholes.”

“Education without assholes?” I knew he had a hard time at school, but I thought it was the school work, not the people.

He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t get it, Miss Popularity.”

“I was not.” I was middle of the road if anything in high school. Not one of the popular kids but not someone who tried to hide at the back of the class either. I had a few friends and did my own thing, hoping I didn’t draw too much attention, negative or positive.

“The kids who had been my friends in middle school are now jerks.”

Protection for my baby brother rears up inside. “They bully you?”

“No, they are just pains in my ass. Giving me odd looks, not wanting to talk to me. Those who didn’t know me before are worse.” He shakes his head and takes another drag. “Half of them are convinced I’m on drugs and it has nothing to do with my head.”

Maybe it would have been different if Theo hadn’t lost so much school because of his injury. He had to be held back a year and all of his friends started high school a year before him.

“None of those guys will be there this year and I’ll be stuck with all the other assholes.”

“They can’t all be bad,” I offered hopefully.

He just looks at me out of the corner of his eye and snorts.

“So, what would this school be like?” It’s an impossibility, as we both know, but why not let him tell me.

“An art school first, education second,” he says after some thought. “I could concentrate on my photography, but still take what classes I need to graduate.” He leans up and looks at me. “But, the teachers have got to be the kind that understand that some of us need help. That we all work at different paces. More time for tests for those who can’t read as quickly, and not because we can’t read. There’s one kid here with dyslexia who barely passes. He’s smart. Really smart, but screwed every time he’s forced to take a test during the same time allotment as his classmates. He’s in a public school with little funds so they can’t afford to do anything special for him.” Theo looks at me with anger. “That can’t be fair.”

“It’s not.” It’s interesting to hear this from him. Especially since I will be teaching high school history and need to remember that each student has their own way of learning and pace they need to set. It’s difficult in a room of 25 kids or more, but it’s something I’ll need to be constantly aware of so nobody falls behind or feels frustrated.

“Academics in the morning, art classes in the afternoon.”

“All kinds of art?” I ask, feeding into his dream school.

“Yeah.” Theo smiles. “Photography, painting, singing, music, dancing, theatre. All of it.”

“So, you think the campers we get would like a high school like that too?”

“Yep. We’ve talked about it. At least last year we did, and I’ve already talked to enough of them this year and they’ve also complained about school being a bitch.”

This surprises me.

Theo turns more fully toward me and for the first time in a long time I see life in his eyes, like he’s excited about something. I’ll listen to anything he has to say, no matter how impossible.

“These kids that you bring in from the city aren’t just underprivileged kids. Some of them have real issues.”

I nod. I already know this. That’s why we have therapists and psychologists at the camp. I don’t know the details of each kid’s life, but none of them have it easy.

“One month away from reality, with a therapist to talk to, and able to work on the art they’re passionate about, isn’t enough. Once they return home, or foster care, or shelters, or whatever, they’re back to being ignored, or hurt, not really getting any help. Doing the best they can until they’re cut loose at eighteen to figure how the hell they are going to make it.”

Theo turns away and takes a drag on his cigarette. “For some of them, it’s worse after being here.”

“How?”

“Because they are reminded how much their lives suck. None of them want to leave.”

“That’s why we have so many returning campers?” I just assumed it was because they liked the break and wanted to work on their art.

“It’s the one time of year they feel safe.” Theo turns and looks me in the eye. “Safe! I can’t imagine that. I hate school and the assholes there, but I’ve never not felt safe.”

He takes another drag. “Read their files, Jackie,” he says. “You do all the event planning but you don’t know shit about the kids that come here.”

I pull back, shocked at the intensity of his voice. Almost as if he’s blaming me.

“You’re going to be teaching in Queens. Some of those kids might be your students. Get to know what’s going on in their head, not how well they’ll do on a test.”

I had intended on doing exactly that. Theo’s condition, or what I thought it was, had opened my eyes to the fact that students aren’t robots. A lot figures into them doing well at school or not, and a lot of times it has nothing to do with intellect.

“Read their files,” he says again. “Then you’ll get it. They need, I need, more than a summer of help. It needs to be year round.”

With that he tossed his butt and gets up and strides back down the path to the camp.

I’ve never read the files. I’m allowed to. It was the agreement for each kid. The therapist assigned gets to know what’s going on, what issues they could be dealing with, and two supervisors at the camp, in case of emergencies and so we know what kind of kids we were getting. The HIPAA authorizations were signed by their guardians or parents of each kid. I just never looked. It seemed like such an invasion of privacy. Had I, I might have anticipated we’d have a camper who wanted to burn the place down.