Finding Home (22 page)

But Charlotte was sharp as a paper cut when she sensed a secret. “Nuh-uh. Something’s up. I know when you’re lying. Your leg starts jiggling, your mouth does that twitchy thing and you won’t look me in the eye. Who is this guy really?”

“All right. Fine.” Megan felt like she was sitting inside her head observing while her mouth ran on without her. “I met him while I was doing the article—the other article, about the street kids.” Maybe there was an impish part of her that wanted to shock Charlotte, to see her eyes open wide.

“On the street? A homeless… Oh my God, he’s that kid in the picture, the silhouette, isn’t he?

“You figured it out. You win. Yay, Charlotte.” Megan couldn’t believe she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. What the hell was the matter with her?

“Wait a minute. Is he a…” Charlotte lowered her voice confidentially. “A prostitute?”

“Was,” Megan amended. “Now he’s just a kid trying to get his life straightened out.”

“A kid? How old is he?”

She didn’t answer.
“Nineteen? Eighteen? Please tell me he’s over eighteen.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re sleeping together,” Megan lied, and hated herself for it. She hoped Charlotte wouldn’t pick up on that one.

“For God’s sake, I should hope not! But you have a minor living in your house? Where’s his family?”

“He has no one. That’s why he was out on the street.”
“Well…” Charlotte seemed at a loss. “What about a foster home or an orphanage or something? You can’t have some strange boy living with you.”

“He doesn’t want to go into the system. None of those kids do. A lot of them had bad experiences in foster care and feel safer living on their own. And some of them are addicts and don’t want the regimen of living in a facility.”

“Addicts! He’s on drugs? Are you insane?”
“No. I didn’t mean Sean. He’s not like that.” Megan was exhausted by Charlotte’s barrage of questions. A trickle of sweat ran down her back. “You don’t understand.”

“No. I don’t. But I do know it’s unacceptable. You can’t—” “Unacceptable? How dare you barge in here and start telling me how to run my life?” Megan was on her feet now, furious and feeling completely capable of kicking nosy, bossy, always-interfering Charlotte out of her house. She wished to hell Greg and Sean hadn’t left because, although she was glad Sean hadn’t witnessed this argument, she wanted Greg to take Charlotte home. Right now.

“Megan. I’m not trying to tell you how to—”
“Yes, you are. You always are.” Megan crossed her arms and tears clouded her vision, making her feel weak and childish.

“I’m only saying…”
“I know. I understand your concerns.” Megan took a breath and spoke calmly. “But I’m not discussing this. I’m not going to spend all afternoon listening to you try to change my mind. So, Charlotte, how are you decorating the nursery?”

Charlotte clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Grow up, Megan. You can’t simply refuse to talk about it.”

“Watch me,” Megan replied. “It’s either that or we’re going to end up screaming at each other until Greg and Sean get back.”

“Fine.” Charlotte spread her hands in a dismissive gesture. “Whatever.”

They passed the rest of the time until the men returned in stilted conversation about the coming birth of Megan’s first niece or nephew, both of them carefully, icily polite.

Oblivious to the tension between the sisters, Greg wouldn’t leave right away, but insisted on helping Sean put the dishwasher back together. The machine worked, and the two men high-fived each other as water filled it. Megan smiled to see Sean so happy, despite the tension eating her inside. But she couldn’t actually relax until Charlotte and Greg were out the door, especially since Charlotte kept watching Sean like he was something on a microscope slide.

She walked into the kitchen after closing the door behind them, heaving a relieved sigh, “Finally!” Then she caught sight of Sean’s tight expression.

“Your sister knows about me,” he half-stated, half-asked, his face an unreadable mask. He folded the sack from the hardware store into a neat square.

“Yes,” she admitted, leaning against the counter and watching him. He nodded. “I could tell from the way she looked at me after we got back. Why did you tell her?”

“I didn’t mean to say anything, but she kept asking questions and it kind of slipped out.”

“Kind of slipped out,” he repeated.

From his measured tone, Megan knew he was supremely pissed off. “She already guessed anyway, because of the article. I only confirmed it because she wouldn’t drop it.”

“Your sister knows I’m a whore. Nice.” His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“You’re not a… Not anymore.” She reached toward him then realized he was in no mood to be touched and her hand dropped to her side. It hadn’t seemed to bother him too much that her friends knew about him, why was he upset now?

“Does she know I’m fucking you?” His harsh tone made it sound dirty. He tossed the folded bag on the counter.

“No,” Megan said quietly.
“Well, that’s something then, isn’t it?” He dropped to his knees and began picking up spare bits from the dishwasher repair project.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t ask her to come and visit.”

He continued cleaning the floor. “Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. Your whole family might as well know. I’m sure they will now.”

Suddenly his angry reaction made sense. He was meeting Megan’s family at Christmas; they’d already discussed visiting them. Sean was afraid of their disapproval. By letting his secret slip, Megan had ensured he was walking into an awkward situation. She apologized again. “I’m sorry.”

He got up from the floor and threw away the trash. “Forget it. It’s not your fault.” He stalked from the room, obviously still humiliated and angry.

Dinner was uncomfortable. Sean sat across from her, head bent, eating methodically. Their talk stayed practical, “pass the salt” and the like. Megan felt her whole day had been filled with stilted conversation and awkward silences.

As they filled the dishwasher after the meal, Megan thanked Sean for repairing it, but her enthusiasm failed to thaw him. She watched him fiddle with the settings on the machine, and wondered how she could make up for upsetting him.

“I’m really sorry, Sean,” she repeated once more. “Of all the people I’d rather not tell anything about your life, or mine, Charlotte’s pretty much top of the list. I’m sorry I lost my temper and told her.”

He didn’t say anything, but paused.

Megan realized she was twisting her amethyst ring nervously around her finger and stopped. She had no idea how to resolve the situation if apologizing wasn’t enough. Right now, she wasn’t even sure whether Sean was planning to sleep in her bed—their bed, now—or on the couch. That’s how pissed he’d looked all night.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I guess they had to find out sometime.” He turned the machine on then walked past her to the bathroom and shut the door. He’d accepted her apology, but Megan didn’t feel forgiven. What else could she offer?

The rest of the evening, the tension and silence continued. Sean sat on the couch reading coursework and studying. Megan sat in bed with her laptop, trying to piece together the notes she’d taken at a local AIDS campaign meeting that morning. She’d completely lost her earlier focus on the article, and kept listening for noises from the living room instead of concentrating on work. At about half past ten, she gave up and shut the laptop. She had another twenty-four hours to hand in the copy.

After preparing for bed, she looked at Sean from the living room doorway. She felt a pang of desire remembering the first night they’d had sex, how it had started with her catching him masturbating. She still had a very clear picture of him stroking himself etched into her mind and the image never failed to arouse her when she thought about it, which was more often than she cared to admit. Tonight he lay in that same position, but clothed, his eyes riveted on the basketball game on TV and his hand toying with an unlit cigarette.

“Are you coming to bed?” She tried to sound unconcerned, uncertain how she’d react if he wasn’t willing to share her bed tonight.

Sean looked up, his face blank. “What?”
“I’m going to bed. Are you coming? I mean, after the game is finished?”

“What time is it?”
“Half past ten. I have to work on that article tomorrow, so I thought I’d try to sleep early,” Megan said. And she couldn’t wait any longer to know whether he was still pissed at her.

He yawned and stretched his arms. “Yeah, I’ll be along. Game’s not that good anyway.”

Megan breathed a sigh of relief as she went to the bedroom and got into bed. She’d been wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms, but decided to take them off and pretend nothing was wrong. They always slept together naked. She picked up a random book on her bedside table, Philip Roth’s
American Pastoral
, which she’d been neglecting recently, and started reading. But her mind wasn’t in it and kept drifting as she listened to Sean get up and move around the apartment, putting things away and turning lights off before hitting the bathroom. She gave up on reading, but left her light on, waiting for his arrival.

Finally, a good twenty minutes after her, he got to the bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers, his back to her, and hesitated for a second before he pulled them off, too. He slipped into the bed and lay on his back next to her. After a couple minutes, he turned onto his side to face her. She must have looked worried because he gave her a small smile. “It’s okay. Really. I mean, I was pissed, but…”

“No. You’re right. I shouldn’t have told Charlotte about you without discussing it with you first. I can understand how you wouldn’t want my family to know. I’m sorry.”

She extended her arm toward Sean, her hand stroking his cheek, where the stubble was beginning to grow. Her fingers trailed across his mouth, his lips opening slightly under her touch. God, that was all it took and already she felt the blood pounding in her temples and crotch.

“I’d like to…” Her voice was hesitant. “I mean…let me do something for you.”

He looked at her quizzically, but with a sparkle in his blue eyes. Yes, he was getting the message, all right.

“Mind if I…head down there?” She licked her lips as she stared him in the eye, doing her damnedest to sound seductive and brazen. “I’m feeling kind of hungry.”

Sean didn’t answer, but his eyes darkened immediately, and his breath quickened.

She smiled and kissed him lightly, her tongue tracing his lips before dipping into his mouth.

He captured it, kissing her back eagerly.

She didn’t let herself get carried away by the kiss. She had to focus if she wanted to achieve her objective. This one was for Sean—well, mainly, because Megan wasn’t going to deny giving him head was also giving her an erotic thrill.

Every time she went down on him, she wondered how she rated in his eyes. She tried to forget about his experiences, and the fact he’d given hundreds more blowjobs than she had—and received a fair few—but it kept coming up in her head. With pictures. She was deeply ashamed of herself for being aroused by mental images of Sean with his mouth stretched around a cock, but she couldn’t banish them as she did the same thing to him.

Although she’d never admitted her fears of inadequacy to him, she could tell he’d realized, because he was very…appreciative of her efforts.

She left his mouth and kissed down his throat, light kisses alternating with little nips and licks, tracing a path down his pecs toward his left nipple. Sean had very sensitive nipples, and she spent some time on one then the other, licking, sucking and biting until he groaned and pressed his erection into her side. Her hand snaked down between their bodies and grasped it, never tiring of the thrill of the hot, smooth hardness of his cock in her hand.

Sean pushed into her fist.

Megan’s heart raced and her arousal grew as her tongue trailed down his abs, following the line of hair, teasing him slowly while she stroked his length. Fleetingly, she wondered whether she’d be getting anything back later, then chided herself for thinking of her desires when she was supposed to be focusing on him.

As her tongue reached his dick, she stopped and looked up at him. Sean had propped himself on his elbows and gazed at her hungrily, his lips parted, panting slightly. He liked to look at her when she sucked him off. Maybe it was his way of reassuring her this was different from his experiences with clients, when he’d fantasize about girls while some guy got him off. Or maybe it was about anchoring him in the reality of her blowjobs. Either way, it turned her on to know he watched as she took the head of his cock between her lips, sheathing him slowly in her mouth. She loved the slight tang of salty bitterness that was her first taste of him.

He hissed as she worked her way up and down, using her tongue and the pads of her fingers. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as she could to make up for her crass behavior earlier and intended to work him up good and slow until he begged for release. As she applied herself to the task, her senses opened to his presence—not just his taste but his smell, musky and so masculine, the feel of his shaft under her fingers and tongue, hard and hot, the sound of his breathing, interspersed with groans and gasps, and the sight of him, from his jutting cock to those eyes, burning on her, making her wet and hot and melting inside.

Sean’s fingers ran through her hair as her head bobbed. His hand slipped down, the weight of it warm against the back of her neck, pressing just slightly, almost but not quite guiding her. She took him in deeper, increasing pressure, eliciting more groans of pleasure, but keeping her rhythm slow to drag it out.

“Fuck,” Sean moaned. His eyes were half-closed and he looked drugged with pleasure.

Megan released him from her mouth and kissed his stomach, drawing patterns with her mouth and tongue on his abdomen.

He bucked under her and gently tried to push her back to his cock, but she resisted.

“You want more?” she said, playing innocent.
“Yesss,” he breathed out, “Please, God, yes!”

The sound of his pleading sent an erotic charge through her that made her pussy clench. She decided to give him the release he craved and her tongue swirled back toward his cock. She paused for a fraction of a second and their eyes locked as she very slowly parted her lips and engulfed him again, gripping him tightly with her hand.