The Beach House (27 page)

I should have taken that shower, she thought,
but Joe didn’t seem to care, his tongue invading her tightness,
wetting her, rippling thrills deep into her core and Jenni thought
she might come again before he used his cock, but Joe couldn’t wait
either and when she was wet he lay against her, his thigh pressed
against the cheek of her ass, the head of his cock touching her,
applying pressure. Jenni parted herself wider, feeling the pressure
build. She enjoyed this, had enjoyed it since the first time,
gasping as Joe’s cock opened her asshole and slipped inside, the
sense of fullness in her belly.

“Stop me if I-”

“You won’t,” Jenni said. “I want all of it,
Joe.”

“Jen.”

He let his weight press against her and Jenni
felt his cock invade her further, deeper, filling her completely
until Joe’s pubic hair pressed hard against her ass and she felt
him start to thrust. She lifted herself up, trying to get him
deeper and Joe reached around and held her breast, dropped his hand
to her belly, back to her breast.

Jenni was fulfilled, knowing how much this
meant to Joe, knowing how much she wanted him. She was going to let
Joe fuck her like this for Kim when they returned home. She
grinned, pushed back against Joe, his stomach against her ass.
Home, she thought. When we go home.

Joe was moving faster, his cock sliding
almost all the way from her ass then burying deep as he came back
down. Jenni felt a tremble start inside and knew she was going to
come, made no effort to stop it, writhing beneath Joe as her second
climax ripped through her and when she came out the other side Joe
was still fucking her and she came up onto hands and knees and let
him grip her hips. She felt her breasts swaying, reached a hand up
and touched herself, reached down along her belly and found her
clitoris with her thumb, pushed two fingers inside her pussy,
feeling Joe’s cock through the thin layer of skin beneath her
pussy, felt him huge and vibrant inside.

“Jen – oh fuck, Jen!” Joe cried out and Jenni
felt his seed spill into her, a long outpouring hosing deep inside
and she rammed her fingers into her pussy and came again, shaking
hard, sweat popping along her throat. Her legs and the one hand
could not hold her up any longer and she slumped onto the floor.
Joe followed, staying inside, lying across her, taking his weight
on his elbows, kissing her shoulders and neck.

They lay for long minutes, breathing hard,
then breathing softly.

“Does this mean you’re going to stay,
Jen?”

She laughed beneath him. “I guess so.”

“Good. You okay with all this?”

“Guess.”

“Mm… I guess you are.”

“You and Kim got room for one more, Joe?”

“You bet.”

Jenni smiled, the warmth of him covering
her.

“I think I really do need that shower now,
Joe.”

“I still want to scrub your back.”

“Of course”

“Are you staying?” Joe stopped on his way to
the bathroom, tall and slim, the scar showing on his shoulder.

“If I can.”

“Two more weeks,” Joe said.

Jenni nodded.

They had those two weeks together as Joe
finished his tour, boarded their flight back to New York and a
stewardess stopped Joe as he stepped onto the plane and asked if he
was Joe Fransiscus the writer. When he said he was she directed
them left into an almost empty first class. Joe signed copies of
his books for the entire crew and somewhere over mid Atlantic even
the pilot came back to shake his hand and chat. Jenni realized then
how her life was going to be, how different Joe’s life was from the
one she had known.

Kim and Ami met them at JFK and they took a
cab back into the city.

Joe sat at his desk in front of the big
picture window that looked across central park and turned on his
MacBook. While waiting he closed his eyes and remembered sitting on
his grandmother’s knee. He could have been no older than five or
six, but the memory was clear of her rolling a sheet of crisp white
paper into an old black Royal. The clack of the cogs as she racked
paper through, the hard rattle of the keys. She had let him try it
out, the effort of putting a letter on paper surprising him. Later
there were his first memories of writing on that same typewriter at
her house, the short, meaningless stories he created which his
grandmother praised despite their faults. Even back then characters
and scenes jostled in his head, each calling for attention, each
wanting to be the first to be heard. Writing was easier now with
the Mac, but sometimes he thought back to that physical act of
getting words down, wondered if he could still work that way if he
had to, if all the power went out.

He felt full of words, pregnant with them.
His last book had sold well, the two months spent touring to
promote worthwhile. He was incapable of writing on planes or in
hotels so the words had dammed up inside his head, ready to burst
loose. Finally the book signings and interviews and tv appearances
were over, and he needed to get back to his real job, putting words
on a screen. This would be his fifth novel. The second since Jenni
had come to live with them.

He opened his eyes and released his
thoughts, fingers flying over the keys.

They came to the beach house at the tail end
of August, after the season had finished. Driving through town from
the ferry Katie said she thought it was too quiet, and Pete said
great, they had come here for a rest, not to party. Katie leaned
across and kissed his cheek. When she sat back Pete glanced across
at her and smiled. At four months, she was just starting to show.
This break would be good for her; good for both of them.

“
Pete, watch out!” Katie yelled and he
glanced up, slamming on the brakes even before he saw what lay in
the road. A skinny man wearing a soiled denim jacket stood in the
middle of the empty street, weaving slightly, a bottle of cheap
whiskey showing from the top of a brown paper bag.

He flipped the bird at them. “What the fuck
you think you doing? Fuckin’ tourists!”

Joe stopped as slim arms snaked around him.
A large belly pressed against his back and he reached around and
cupped both hands against a firm ass.

“Is this the new book?” Jenni leaned across
to read, nipping his earlobe as she passed, her breasts parting
around the back of his neck and Joe responded, as he always did,
his cock thickening along his thigh.

“Only an idea at the moment.”

“Can I read it?”

“I don’t know,” Joe said, uneasy.

Jenni picked up the tone in his voice. “If
you don’t want me to I won’t.”

“It’s not that. I’d like you to. It’s
just...”

She kissed the top of his head, and from
along the hallway Kim called out, asking if they wanted lunch now
or later.

“Later,” Jenni called back, her fingers
tracing the muscle across Joe’s chest, finding the line of raised
skin that would always be there now. “I won’t read it if you don’t
want me to, babe.”

“I do want you to. It’s just...” He sighed.
“I stopped letting Kim read anything until it was actually in
print.”

“It’s okay, Joe, really.”

“I stopped her because she always tries to
make it better, and I can’t stand that.” Joe knew he sounded
pathetic and stopped talking.

“I won’t do that,” Jenni whispered, her
breath soft against his ear.

“Pa!” Ami’s high voice sounded and Joe heard
her bare feet patter across the wooden floor. He turned in his
chair, knowing he would have to come back to this later as Ami’s
grin shattered his heart.

Jenni offered her hand and Ami lifted hers
up high to take it.

“Up, Momma,” she said, and Jenni leaned and
lifted her and rested Ami on her hip, Ami’s leg curling over the
full bloom of her belly. It seemed as far as Ami was concerned Kim
and Jenni were interchangeable, two Moms for the price of one. In a
couple of months another voice would join their group, and whatever
it was, boy, girl, they didn’t want to know, that child would have
two Moms as well.