Friends With Partial Benefits (12 page)

He slowly turned his head to look directly at her as she stood in the perfect finish position, with her legs stretched far apart and her racquet held high. She grinned from ear to ear. He just smiled at her, and she shrugged her shoulders. Then she popped her legs together and headed to the baseline with a spring in her step, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.

"Was that you grunting just like Maria Sharapova?"

She looked a little embarrassed. "Was it that bad?"

"If it leads to shots like that, I say grunt away." He added jokingly, "I can’t compete with that. That was so my point." He simply clapped his hand against his racquet a few times, which is the proper tennis etiquette when your opponent hits a shot of that caliber. Retrieving the ball, he shook his head. "Sorry about dropping the F-bomb."

"Don’t worry. That was a freaking amazing shot. I never can hit on the run like that."

Brian won the third set six games to three and impressed her more than once with his game. Afterward, they sat on the bench, chatting about tennis and other topics. Twenty minutes was spent on the racquets they had played with over the years. She asked if he ever had any formal lessons. He told her he hadn’t and mentioned that his backhand was always the weakest part of his game. He asked if she had any advice for him, and she said she did.

After leading him back onto the court, she suggested that he adjust his grip by rotating the racquet slightly in his hand and added that she thought he should keep his shoulder down as he hit the ball.

She moved behind him to demonstrate and got close enough that she could smell him. He was completely sweaty, yet he didn’t smell bad at all. She actually liked his scent. As Brian brought his hand back, she grabbed his arm and demonstrated the recommended changes to his stroke. Their bodies were pressed together, and as they looked each other in the eye, they shared some kind of quick moment. They both felt it, but Jillian cleared her throat, let go of his arm, and took a half-step backward.

She said, "So, um, that’s how I think you should... uh..."

A little flustered, Brian looked at her and struggled to avoid popping a full boner right there in front of her, even though it wouldn't have been anything she hadn't already seen. He bounced the ball, tried her swing suggestions, and blasted a shot over the net.

"You see?" Jillian said with a bright smile.

"Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that," he said as he rushed over and sat on the bench, covering his lap with a towel.

Joining him on the bench, she grabbed her bottle of water and poured a little down the back of her neck. She placed the cold bottle to her forehead, glanced at Brian, and licked her lips. She closed her eyes and flashed back to a minute earlier, when their hot bodies were pressed up against each other; she was momentarily overcome by the memory. After fanning her hand at her face, she poured a splash of water down her front, just as Brian glanced at her. He watched, mesmerized, as the water slowly slid between her breasts. His eyes widened as his heart sent blood to his cheeks… and other places.

He stood up quickly. "I’d better go take a shower. It’s really hot out here. Uh, thanks again for the lesson."

While watching him go, she poured the rest of the water down her front.

In the guest room bathroom, Brian stripped off his sweaty clothes, set the water to a cool temperature, and climbed into the shower. Exhausted, he stood there letting the water stream over his body. He looked down and saw that despite the cool water, he was evidently still thinking about Jillian. He thought about the previous night, how Jillian, while under the influence, had come clean about her voyeuristic morning. He could not erase from his brain the image of her proud unveiling of her personal design choice. He found himself unable to resist...

Jillian stood outside the guest room, eyeing the door and longing to kiss him, to touch him, and to shower with him. She didn’t have a plan, but she was desperate for at least one more glimpse. She figured she should probably make sure he had enough towels. That would be the proper thing to do, she thought, although a towel restock was usually better done when your guest was fully clothed. Regardless, it still needed to be done, she kept telling herself.

After grabbing a towel from the linen closet, she knocked lightly on the door and called Brian’s name. When there was no reply, she slowly opened the door. She entered the room, heard the shower running, and saw that the door to the adjoining bathroom was open. She heard the uneven sounds of water hitting the shower floor that told her he was actually in the shower and not just standing outside, waiting for the water to reach the proper temperature. She tiptoed to the doorframe and peered through the inch-wide opening on the hinge side, which gave her a clear line of sight to the glass-enclosed shower.

A towel was draped over the clear glass door and hung down just enough to block her view of Brian’s chest and upward. The glass was clean and fog-free, and it provided her a perfect view of him as he showered. But he wasn’t showering; he was touching himself. With his left hand, he had a death grip on the towel that hung over the shower door, and he worked himself with his right. Jillian followed the bulging muscle in his right shoulder to the equally-flexed bicep, down to his straining hand, as he really focused on his task.

As she watched him, she slipped her hand under her skirt to her completely sweat-soaked panties. She closed her eyes, and the Jaclyn West third-person narrative kicked in:

Katrina watched as Dallas worked his manhood in the shower. She wondered if he was thinking of her or of someone else. She leaned against the doorframe, her breathing labored as she longed to be in there with him and doing that for him. Slipping her right hand under her skirt, she began running her index finger over her cotton-covered pussy. Her eyes remained glued on his sex, as he continued to pump it faster and faster. She pushed a finger under her panties and began touching the—

Jillian was yanked out of the fantasy when she heard Brian grunt loudly as he successfully completed his mission. Slumping against the door, exhausted, he squeezed the towel hard, pulling it down into the shower as it fell from his grip. As he tried to prevent it from landing under the spray of the shower he reached for it, missed it, slipped a little, and ended up on his knees with the towel on the shower floor.

She watched as he tossed the soaked towel into the corner of the shower, cursing and trying to ring it out. It remained worthlessly damp. Feeling sorry for him, she considered coming clean and casually walking a dry towel to him, but she decided that was probably a horrible idea.

Suddenly, she was startled by a noise coming from the hall. Sprinting from the guest room, she rushed into the hall and closed the door. As she continued across the hallway, she saw Rob coming up the stairs. When their eyes met, she slowed and stared at him with a blank expression.

He asked, "So did you guys do it?"

"What?" Stopping dead in her tracks, she awkwardly bounced up and down on her heals with her jaw falling open.

"How is he?"

She froze, unable to speak or breathe.

He narrowed his eyes. "Tennis. Did you guys play?"

Exhaling, she smiled. "Oh, yeah, we did play. He's really good."

"Is something wrong?"

She narrowed her eyes in a slight panic and then paused to compose herself. "Sorry. Your father called last night, and I’m still, uh..." George’s call was the furthest thing from her thoughts at that moment, but it was as good an excuse as any to explain her strange behavior.

"Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. I think, uh, Brian is in the shower. Would you see if he needs another towel? I tried to catch him before, but, uh..." She trailed off as she handed the towel to Rob and headed past him down the hall.

"Sure."

"I really need a shower, myself." She walked into her bedroom and closed the door. With her hands covering her face, she slumped against the door; her body trembling.

Brian took a quick shower, tossed the damp bath towel on the floor, and stepped on it, dripping wet, as he attempted to try off with a hand towel.

Rob called to him through the partially-opened door, "You need a towel in there?"

Startled, Brian covered up as though he were being watched. "Rob, yeah. How’d you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I needed a towel?" Brian asked.

"My mother said you might."

After pausing to wonder if she’d been watching him again, he blew off that ridiculous thought and reached through the open door for the towel.

Jillian continued to lean against her door, feeling even more horrible than when she stared at Brian's exposed penis while he slept. What was she doing? What, exactly, was the plan? This time she had surely invaded his privacy, and she was sure that her actions must qualify as some kind of lesser sex crime. Walking across the room, she stripped off her damp clothes and stood before a full mirror, admiring the reflection of her newly trimmed area.

As she studied her new look, a shadow of a memory from the previous night took shape in her head. Was Brian in her room last night? Did she show him? Did she tell him about the other day when she saw him sleeping?
No way,
she thought.
I must have dreamt about the show and tell
. Sure, she had been out of it, but she wasn’t on sodium pentothal, or anything. It was only a half glass of wine and one Ambien.

Jillian looked at her reflection in the mirror, still shaking from nearly being caught but also turned on from seeing Brian do what he did. She ran her hands over her body. Looking at her private parts in the mirror, she slid a finger over what little hair remained. She decided she had to finish what she already started.

After rushing to the door, she locked it and then fell backward in bed with her hand between her thighs. She imagined it was Brian licking her down there as she closed her eyes, moaned softly, and touched herself.

Minutes later, in the hall, Rob and Brian were walking past Jillian’s room. Rob turned back, approached her door, and then knocked once. "We’re going to lunch, okay?"

Jillian was in bed, smack in the middle of her response to Brian’s shower activities, lying there, panting. She didn’t want to answer but instinctively she yelled back, "Oookayyy," in an odd voice that sounded like she might be trapped under something heavy.

Rob and Brian exchanged questioning looks.

Rob asked, "You okay in there?" Then he waited by the door for her reply.

Attempting to calm herself, she took a deep breath and then said in a cracking voice, "Oh sure! I’m, uh, just about to get wet. I mean, in the shower. Have fun."

Satisfied that his mother wasn’t dying, Rob turned to Brian, and they headed downstairs while Jillian returned to her work.

The two guys walked to a restaurant in the mall that was only a few blocks from the house. It was a scorching day, and the choice to walk left them sweaty and hot when they arrived. They each ordered a burger and a beer and then another. Rob shared with Brian how Laura had been insatiable since he arrived, how she seemed different, and how she was more into sex now than ever.

"Are you doing something new?" Brian asked.

"I don’t think so. Just the same old stuff."

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

Rob ordered another beer for both of them and looked at Brian apologetically. "I knew I’d be spending a lot of time with her, but I didn’t think she would want to see me so much. She's wearing me out, dude. I slipped out when she fell asleep. I feel like a dick, though. I brought you here because you were depressed, and now I’ve abandoned you."

Brian looked at him like he was crazy. "I’m having the time of my life. Your house is like a freaking resort. I played tennis today and took a swim, and, uh, your mother couldn’t be nicer."

"Is she okay? She mentioned she got a call from my father last night."

"I heard some of it," Brian said, aware that he might be heading into dangerous territory.

"Was she all right afterward?" Rob asked.

"She was... She had just taken a sleeping pill. She was kind of out of it and pretty angry at first, but she seemed to have cheered up a little by the time she went up to bed."

After taking a sip of beer, Rob looked distraught. "Jesus! Now I’ve abandoned her, too."

"She’s fine. Really."

"Thank God you were there in case she overdosed or fell, or something."

"Yeah," Brian said softly in a guilty tone.

"I’ve got to tell Laura to back off a little, so I can—"

"Dude, don’t worry about me or your mom. She’s fine. Look, if I had a hot girl begging to have sex with me repeatedly, I wouldn’t be spending time with another guy and my mother. Seriously."