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“There we go.” Will murmured, grinding his cloth-covered bulge against my ass. I moaned and shook and came. I couldn’t stop. “That’s more like it.” His breath was coming faster. “Little slut cousin,” he whispered in my ear, and I gasped and convulsed again. Then he grunted, pushing against my quivering body with short jerks.
“What’s happening?” I squirmed against my cousin. I didn’t — he couldn’t be — yes. He was. I knew exactly what was happening. I was grinding Will’s solid thigh, gripping the cool granite countertop, rubbing my cream into a froth on his hands. My cousin was thrusting against me with long, smooth strokes. My body shook with pleasure as Will’s satisfied groans filled my ears.
He held me firmly against him, cupping my pussy in both hands, as his thrusts slowed. Finally, his finger eased from my tight warmth. He gave my clit a little flick before smoothing my underwear in place and deftly straightening my nightshirt. And finally, he stepped back.
“Turn around.” His voice was calm, smiling. I realized my legs were shaky. Slowly, I turned around. “That’s what happened.” He pointed to the damp stain on his crotch, a stain on his otherwise impeccable khaki pants, and gave me a brilliant smile. “I jizzed my pants because my little virgin cousin came so hard when I fingered her, and it was so cute the way she kept begging me to stop.”
I ran my fingers through my hair desperately. My panties were soaked, clinging to my damp pussy. “Will, listen.”
“Want to help me clean up?” He pulled his zipper down. Just then, the front door opened.
* * *
Whirling, I dashed out of the kitchen and into a long, hot shower. Thankfully, I avoided running into whoever had just arrived. I’d abandoned Will before I could find out what he meant by helping him clean up. But his open zipper filled my mind with forbidden images.
I was too stunned to feel anything but the drops of water raining down on my body. As they sluiced over my breasts, Will’s hands were there again, cupping the soft mounds and pinching my swollen pink nipples.
In a daze, my own hand slipped between my legs to find the soaked folds that had just convulsed around my cousin’s fingers. I shuddered, leaning against the slate tiled wall.
Pussy. His word, not mine. But the syllables sent out tendrils that wound around my arms and legs, my waist, my breasts. Now that he’d said it, touched me there, I couldn’t stop thinking it. Steam rose and water splashed over me while I slowly stroked my clit, shame and excitement twining together into waves of pleasure that peaked in long, slow spasms.
Coffee. I still needed my coffee. Remembering that fragrant cup got me into a peasant blouse and cutoffs, dragged a comb through my long ginger strands, and propelled me out of my bedroom and back into the kitchen. By the counter stood Will, also freshly showered, in new clean khakis and a different polo shirt, talking with Aunt Rose.
“Andie, you want to hang out today?” He turned toward me. “I’ll take you out.” His voice was normal. Friendly. And his smile — all wholesome family affection. “Here,” he added, handing me my mug of cooled coffee. “We’re going boating. Spence and Pax will be there, from the party. They both really liked Andie,” he added to his mother off-handedly. Aunt Rose drawled something about nice boys and nice families.
“I have a lot to do.” I gripped my coffee cup. What game was he playing? “Galleys to look over. Books to read. Work stuff. I’ll just stay here.”
My aunt shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Don’t forget we’re going to the ballet on Thursday night. Tony will drive me into the city to meet you. Will and Richard are going to join us for dinner beforehand. They’ll collect you from the publishing house. Will, pick something suitable for Andrea from my closet, would you? She needs your help.”
Heat washed over my cheeks. “Thanks, Aunt Rose, but I’m fine.”
Will smiled reassuringly at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re all set.”
Quickly, I made for the back patio.
Outside, alone with the whispering trees, my mind struggled to make sense of what had happened. What was I supposed to do? Talk about it with Will? No, I should stay the hell away from him.
When the twin sounds of motors rumbled softly from the front of the house — Aunt Rose with the driver, Will in one of his cars — I slipped in through the back door, got my embroidered purse, and walked the two miles to the train station.
For hours, I followed the sidewalks in the city. The constant parade of color, sound, and smell absorbed me in its flow. I found a ramen shop and slurped noodles, my legs curled under the vinyl chair. I flipped through magazines in a store, smelling the inked pages, a retreat from the sticky heat outside. I played chess in a plaza with an old man who also had nothing to say. Bubbles rose in the air above us.
Why was I still a virgin? I’d told Will it was none of his business, but the truth was, I wasn’t sure myself. I’d had boyfriends. We’d touched. It had been okay — just okay. And I’d never felt the urge for more. I’d never admitted to my boyfriends that I liked my own hands on my body better than theirs, or that I thought penises were a little ridiculous. I’d never wanted someone enough to take them inside me.
On the train home, the vague thought came that I should be furious. But all I felt was Will’s hand between my legs. All I heard were his shockingly crude whispers in my ears.
Chapter 5
It was easy to avoid Will, the next few days. Between work and reasons to be out of the house, I simply didn’t see him. Maybe he was never home during the week, anyway.
Sunday night, I’d stared at the lock on my door: clicking it, then unlocking it again, back and forth. Finally, I left it unlocked. I tossed and turned on the smooth sheets, sweaty and sleepless, alert for the soft squeak of the door being pushed open. It never came.
At work, I made some friends, or at least people to linger with in the city. Meg and Emily were also just out of college, trying to save and moaning about their dating woes. Like me, they were up for splitting a bottle of cheap red three ways at Meg’s apartment and making stovetop mac n’ cheese.
During the dating discussions, I listened more than I talked. Will’s name didn’t come up. When Emily insisted on setting me up with a friend of a friend, I agreed more quickly than I ever had to a blind date.
Thursday afternoon at the publishing house was busy, and the clock crept past five before I knew it. I was buried in a galley, completely focused on my work, when the back of my neck prickled. A hush fell over the office, and a heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder.
Startled, I looked up into Uncle Richard’s dark, narrowed eyes.
