Crazy About the Baumgartners (9 page)

“You
know I was watching, don’t you?” He leaned in to whisper this into my ear, his
big hands gripping my ass, holding me to him.

“Yes,”
I whispered back, my nipples hardening instantly at his words.

“Did
you come hard?” He pulled my skirt up in back, hands roaming over my tights,
making me gasp.

“I…
I needed it so bad that night.” I whimpered. I needed to right now. Between his
teasing grind against the counter before we left, and now this, I was ready to
explode.

“I
know.” The knowing in his voice undid me. My hands, which I’d previously kept
at my side, went to his waist, feeling the solid heat of his muscles underneath
that button-down dress shirt. “What were you thinking about when you came?”

“I…
don’t remember,” I stammered when his hand reached around the front of my
tights, cupping my mound through them, under my skirt.

“Liar.”
He pulled back to look at me. His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.
Dark with lust. “Don’t lie to me or Mr. Wolf will eat you all up.”

Was
that supposed to be a threat? It just made me wetter.

“You.”
I whispered.
I
was the desperately hungry one. “Both of you.”

“Fuck,
that’s hot.” His fingers massaged me through my tights. My pussy lips were so
swollen and fat. Everything down there was squishy. “I wish I could have seen
you with the light on. Is your pussy shaved?”

I
nodded. “But Mrs. B said I should let a little grow back. At the top.”

“Blonde?”
His eyes brightened.

“Yes.”
I bit my lip. “Like my hair.”

He
groaned, palm grinding my pussy, his cock like a foot-long pipe against my
thigh.

“And
these gorgeous tits.” His other hand had found something to do, cupping my
breast through my blouse. My hard nipple grew even harder, as if it could pop
right out for his waiting fingers. “My God, Gretchen, do you know what you do
to me? You turn me into a fucking animal.”

“I
was just carrying my basket through the woods on the way to Grandma’s house,
Mr. Wolf,” I teased, rocking my hips. He could get me off like this. Just like
this. A fire burned through me at the thought. He could make me come in his
arms while his wife and kids were just a room away and no one would ever know.

“You’re
so damned tempting.” He smiled, watching my face as I looked at him through
half-closed eyes while he rocked my pussy toward orgasm.

“Gretchen?”
Mrs. B called from the family room. “Can you bring me Holly’s diaper bag?”

The
sound of her voice made him take a step back. I straightened my skirt, my
blouse, still trying to catch my breath. The diaper bag was on the kitchen
table and I headed for it on shaky legs.

“Wait.”
Doc caught my arm, whispering. “Gretchen, I’m sorry. I’m… drunk. Forgive me?”

“I…
um…” He had to know there was nothing to forgive. He wasn’t taking advantage of
me. My God, I wanted it as much as he did.

“Don’t
tell Carrie.” He left, disappearing back up the stairs.

I
made it through the rest of the night on autopilot, cleaning up after dinner,
tucking two sugar-hyped now-crashing kids into bed, rocking the baby to sleep,
saying goodnight to the Baumgartners as they sat on the sofa watching
The
Office
, laughing together.

But
that night, I heard them having sex. I listened to the animal growl and thrust
of him, the headboard banging against the wall over and over, and I wondered if
he was thinking about me when he came.

Because
I was. I came three times, panting and tangled in my covers, thinking about
him.

* *
* *

The
Baumgartners went to New England to visit Doc’s parents for Thanksgiving and
took Janie, Henry, and Holly with them. They asked me to come along, but I told
them I’d been invited to my aunt’s for the holiday. It wasn’t true, of course.
My aunt had denounced me as a slut and had kicked me out the summer after my
senior year when she found me giving Jake Harris a blowjob on the couch in the
basement. The truth was, I hated Thanksgiving. It was a non-holiday to me that
served no purpose except to eat and bicker with family members you hardly ever
saw. And that just reminded me I didn’t have any family to bicker with, and
that made me sad.

Last
year, Ronnie had invited me to her parents’ and we had dinner with them and her
sister, Amy, which had been okay, but still painful. For me, it was like being
pricked with needles all night long—not anything that was going to kill
me, but still damned painful and annoying. So this year, I spent Thanksgiving
at the Baumgartners, in their empty house. I ordered Chinese food and ate it in
front of the 80-inch television while binge-watching
Friends
on DVD all
weekend. On Friday, I had the worst MSG hangover and stayed in bed until three.

Then
I managed to clean up the house and decided, after a liquid dinner of organic
whole milk mixed with Carnation Instant Breakfast, that I wanted to go
clubbing. Christian had called me after that one night, but I’d never called
him back. Rude, I knew, but I didn’t want a regular fuck buddy, and he wasn’t
really boyfriend material—not still living at home, going to the
community college, and playing Halo and Call of Duty until all hours of the
night. Of course, who was I to talk, after spending eighteen hours in front of
the TV?

So
I thought maybe I’d call him and we could meet up at the club. Since I had the
Baumgartners’ place all to myself. Including their giant king sized bed. The
truth was, I wanted to fuck on it. I wanted to be fucked on it, to imagine
myself in between the two of them. I borrowed Mrs. B’s dress, the one she’d
worn that night. It had been skin tight on her, but it was a little loose on
me. Still, I looked damned good. Maybe, I thought, I could pick up two tonight
for the price of one. I was sure Christian wouldn’t mind bringing another girl
home.

I
called him, but when he finally answered, I was already at the club, and
apparently he was out of town—Texas—with his folks. He sounded real
disappointed and said he’d make it up to me when he got back. I said, sure,
we’d get together. Of course, I lied. I knew what I was doing as I ponied up to
the bar and let some guy buy me a drink. I was alone, I was missing the
Baumgartners, and I was looking for any way I could to remedy that. If it meant
getting drunk and bringing another strange guy home, then that was what I was
going to do.

I
sat at the bar, sipping my mojito, and hunted the place with my gaze. I skipped
over the couples. They were easy to spot. Not because they were kissing or
dancing close, but because they stood near each other, almost touching,
familiar, but didn’t talk. Their eyes were mostly on other people. I ignored
the dancers too. Most had already found a willing victim for the night’s main
event. Instead, I scanned the periphery. I was looking for a wallflower, a shy
one, someone who would jump at the chance to go home in my Saturn and do just
what I told him to.

Several
guys approached while I sat there, but I rebuffed them. If they were confident
enough to come up to me, they weren’t what I was looking for. I went through
two more drinks—paid for by two other guys—and finally decided to
take a break and headed to the restroom. I smiled, remembering standing in line
with Mrs. B. The line wasn’t as long tonight.

When
I came out of the stall to wash my hands, there was only one sink empty. I
squeezed in, pumping pink suds into my palms, completely oblivious to my
surroundings until she spoke.

“Hi,
Gretchen.”

I
looked up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. She was putting on mascara and
looked incredible.

“Hi,
Ronnie.”

I
thought that would be it. My heart was in my throat. I grabbed some paper
towel, expecting her to be gone when I turned around. But she was there. Right
behind me. Close enough to touch. And I wanted to touch her. God help me, I
did.

“Can
we talk?”

“Here?”
I looked around the bathroom, dubious.

“Out
there?” she suggested, wrinkling her nose. Of course, that was out. Too much
noise and confusion. Then she looked at me again and grabbed my hand. It was
soft and warm and familiar and instantly broke my heart. “Got your car?”

I
nodded. “Won’t Vince miss you?”

“I’m
here with friends. Let me tell them. I’ll meet you right outside.”

Of
course I thought she was going to ditch me. I shivered outside—still sweaty
from all the body heat and I hadn’t brought a coat—and figured I’d wait
for fifteen minutes and then go home and lick my wounds. But that isn’t what
happened at all. Ronnie showed up, just like she said she would, shivering
herself, although she’d been smart enough to bring a jacket. Her skirt was
almost as short as mine.

“Let’s
go, I’m freezing.” Ronnie’s teeth chattered all the way to the parking lot. I
unlocked the Saturn’s doors and we got in. I started the car to turn on the
heat. Late November in Michigan was cold—cold enough to snow, although it
wasn’t.

“Better?”
I asked, directing the vents in her direction as the air turned from cool to
lukewarm. It wouldn’t be long and it would heat up.

“Thanks.”
She gave me a shy, heartbreaking smile. “So… how are you?”

How
was I?

“Good.”
Lying seemed to be the best course of action until I knew what she wanted.
Because I was sure she wanted something. “So what’s up?”

“Oh…
nothing.” Seems we were both into the lying thing.

“How’s
Vince?”

“Um…
good.” She shrugged, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, gaze scanning the
parking lot.

“Still
seeing him?”

“Yeah.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Listen. Gretchen, I just
wanted to tell you… I’m sorry.”

“Right.
You said that before.” I leaned back in the driver’s seat, remembering how it
had all ended. She’d tearfully confessed and apologized profusely when I told
her I’d seen her and Vince together. Then, in a stunning turn of events, at
least on my end, she had been both shocked and horrified by my idea of sharing
him. In the end, she’d been the one angry at me, instead of the other way
around.

“I
know, but…” She picked at one of her cuticles. Her nails were painted a pretty
shade of turquoise. “Well, I told you something that wasn’t exactly true.”

“You
lied?” Why wasn’t I surprised?

“I
just… I wanted you to know that I thought about it.” She looked over at me in
the light of a street lamp, half her face in shadow. “What you wanted.”

“You,
me and him?” The unholy trinity.

“Yeah.” 
She nodded. “The thing is... I didn’t say no.”

“I’m
pretty sure screaming ‘are you out of your fucking mind’ and slapping me across
the face is a pretty standard, universal sign for ‘no.’”

 “I
didn’t,” Ronnie pleaded. “I mean, I know… I know I said that. I did a horrible
thing. I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

“You
did,” I agreed.

“But
after… I thought about it.” She lifted her face to mine and I saw the tears she
was trying to hold back. That melted me a little. “I missed you so much. And…
so I asked him.”

This
I hadn’t known. Ronnie, as far as I knew, had made the choice herself. She
didn’t want me, she wanted Vince. She’d made that absolutely, stingingly clear.

“And
what did he say?”

“He
said he didn’t want to share me.” She dropped her head again and I saw tears
fall into her lap.

“Well…”
I couldn’t help it. I touched, her, reaching out and running a hand down over
her scalp, through her long, dark hair, letting my fingers get tangled. “I
guess I can’t blame him.”

“You
mean that?” She sniffed, glancing up at me.

“No.”
I snorted, my hand falling to her lap, squeezing hers in mine. “I think he’s an
insecure asshole, but what do I know?”

She
smiled. “He’s talking about marrying me.”

“Whoa,
that was fast.” I blinked in surprise. You’d think Mr. Monster Porn Cock would
want to take his pony on a few more rides before putting on a saddle and
bridle.

“I
know.” Ronnie’s hand trembled in mine.

“Are
you cold?” I asked, reaching to turn up the heat.

“No.”
She shook her head, meeting my eyes again, still shy.

“Why
are you shivering?”

“I
don’t know.” She dropped her gaze again, shaking her head. More lies. But I
didn’t press her. I just said what was true.

“I
miss you, Ronnie.” I lifted her hand to my cheek, turning and kissing her palm.
“I still love you. I always will.”

“I
miss you too,” she said, but pulled her hand back into her lap, swallowing and
looking out the window at a car pulling into the lot. “So are you still in the
apartment?”

“No.
I’m living with the Baumgartners.” I knew that would surprise her, and it did.

“Really?”

“Yeah.
They’ve got a baby.” Another surprise. “They needed a live-in nanny.”

“Mrs.
B had a baby?” Ronnie’s jaw was practically on the floor.

“Foster
care,” I explained. “Adopted. Or, she will be.”

“Oh.
Wow.” She looked like she didn’t quite believe me. “So you’ve got the night off
then?”

“They
went to Doc’s parents’ place for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh.”
She licked her lips and then asked, “When do they get home?”

I
knew that look in her eyes and my body responded instantly.

“Not
until Sunday.” I waited, my breath held. I knew I shouldn’t encourage her. I
should have lied. But I couldn’t help myself. Just looking at her legs, crossed
like that, her skirt riding high, made my heart race.

She
hesitated, biting her lip. “So you’re all alone?”

“I’ve
been alone since you left.” I put one finger on her knee, sliding my fingernail
up her pantyhose. It left a long run in her stockings as I traced up her thigh,
pushing her skirt as I went.