The Space Between Us (14 page)

I got up on my elbows to watch Charlie eat my pussy. Meredith sank her fingers into Charlie’s hair. She pressed him closer, too close. Too hard. She shifted his head—not the way I liked it.

I put my hand on hers.

We all stopped.

Delicate business, this dance of three. It takes more than choreography; it takes sensitivity. She’d said she wanted her husband to make me come. Maybe she thought she was helping. I tugged her hand up to my mouth and licked the pad of her forefinger, then took the tip inside my mouth and sucked enough to wet it. Then I used her finger to circle my nipple and get it hard.

I wanted her to kiss me, but she didn’t. Her fingers pinched gently on my nipple, then she pulled away. She shifted onto the pillows without a word. The finger I’d licked slipped inside her panties, and her head tipped back with a sigh.

Charlie hadn’t moved from between my legs, though he’d paused in his licking and sucking. “Meredith?”

“Make her come,” she said in a dreamy voice.

He looked up at me. I put my hand on his hair, not tugging or pushing the way she had. He surprised me when he rolled us both so that he was on his back and I straddled his face. My palms skidded on the soft sheets, but Charlie’s hands on my hips kept me steady. His seeking mouth found my clit.

I laughed. This seemed to startle them both. Meredith looked at me. Charlie’s tongue paused in its delicious rhythm.

“Tesla?” Meredith said.

“Surprised me. Feels good, though, Charlie. Don’t stop.”

“Feels good?” Meredith smiled. The bit of weirdness passed. She looked like her old self. Her fingers circled, circled inside her panties, and her thighs dropped open as her hips shifted. “Good.”

I wanted to move between her legs, to sip and lap at her pretty pussy the way Charlie was so thoroughly pleasing mine—but in this position I couldn’t reach without shifting around. Also, though it seemed as if Meredith was into me—at least so far as she was getting off on watching her husband eat me out—I still wasn’t so sure she was really into girls. Besides, Charlie had found the pace and pressure that was hitting me just right, and it was hard to concentrate on anything more than how good it felt.

I wasn’t going to fuck this up. I had a handsome man between my legs whose oral talents were pretty damn stellar. And though I’d have gladly extended the favor toward Meredith or even Charlie, had he taken off his clothes and made it possible, nobody was asking me to do anything but relax and enjoy it. What else was there to think about, really?

As far as I was concerned, not a damn thing.

When I rocked my clit against his tongue, Charlie let out another of those sexy, helpless-sounding sighs. Instead of laughing this time, I eased my breath out in a moan that Meredith echoed. She shifted, her knees falling wider apart as she worked at her pussy. Her back arched.

I couldn’t help kissing her knee. Pleasure had filled me to overflowing. I was going to come soon. I wanted my mouth on something. My hands.

Her skin was soft, the fine hairs she’d missed shaving a little prickly on my cheek. Ticklish on my lips when I mouthed her skin. Meredith twitched when my mouth touched her. She shifted, the bed rocking as the three of us moved, and I couldn’t tell if she pulled her knee away on purpose or if it just happened.

She did move a few moments later, getting behind me. I looked over my shoulder to watch her work at Charlie’s belt buckle, then pull his pants down. His cock sprang out into her hand. She took him into her mouth.

Twisting in this position hurt my neck, so I turned back the way I’d been. Then nothing mattered but the fact that I was tipping up and over and into this great, swirling whirlpool of pleasure. I gave in to it, thinking of nothing but Charlie’s tongue on my clit. The press of his fingers into my pussy and the way they spread me in just the right way.

I couldn’t see if Meredith was still using her hand on herself, or even if she was sucking Charlie’s cock with as much enthusiasm as he was giving my pussy, but by the way he started licking me faster, I thought she probably was.

He moaned against me. Meredith gave a stuttering cry. And I came on Charlie’s tongue, my hips bucking. My fingers dug into the sheets, the mattress dimpling under my touch.

And after, I laughed again, my face pressed into the soft coolness of expensive fabric. Charlie moved from under me so I could collapse, belly down, onto the bed. His hands drifted over my bare ass and thighs, and I twisted so I could look at him. He’d pushed up onto his knees and stared down at me, his lips parted as though he meant to join me in laughter.

Meredith was always beautiful, but she looked so lovely in the aftermath of her pleasure that it took my breath away. Her gaze went to Charlie first, then to me. She grinned. She grabbed his tie and pulled him forward to kiss him.

“Mmm. God, baby, that was amazing.” Her gaze flickered toward me. “I can taste you on him.”

With my orgasm still running like heated silver through every inch of me, I was feeling more than a bit liquidy myself. I ran a hand up Charlie’s back and leaned into him. “Is that a bad thing?”

Meredith slid her tongue across her lower lip, then caught it in her teeth, denting the soft flesh. She tilted her head to study her husband. “What do you think, love?”

Charlie shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“I’m starving,” she said suddenly, and bounced off the bed. Meredith grabbed a robe from the chair and was all the way to the door before she paused to look over her shoulder at us. “C’mon. Food.”

Charlie and I glanced at each other. We laughed at the same time. I’d have kissed him then, but he was already getting off the bed. He zipped up, then held out his hand to me. “C’mon, Tesla. Food.”

“So…not only did you just give me some incredible head,” I said, following, “but you’re gonna feed me, too?”

He looked at me, eyes lingering on mine, though his gaze spent more than a few seconds on the rest of my naked body. “Yep. Apparently, Meredith wants food.”

I picked up my panties and stepped into them, but settled for pulling my T-shirt over my head without a bra. “And let me guess…you do everything Meredith wants?”

I’d said it lightly, teasing, but Charlie only gave me half a smile. “Well. She is my wife.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess she is.”

Chapter 18

I
didn’t sleep over, for a few different reasons. I hadn’t told Vic and Elaine I’d be out all night, and felt bad that they might worry if I didn’t come home. I had to work in the morning and didn’t have any extra clothes with me. But the main reason was even simpler than all that: they didn’t ask me.

Meredith walked me out to my car, though. She’d shoved her bare feet into boots and pulled on a parka over her undies, and her teeth chattered as she danced in place to keep warm while I unlocked the driver’s side door.

I thought and hoped she might kiss me, but instead she pressed her cheek to mine and gave me a squeeze. “Mmm, this was great.”

“Yeah.” I’d forgotten my mittens and tucked my fingers into my armpits to keep them warm; my keys dug into my side. “Did you…was it…okay?”

“Of course it was. It was great!” She beamed as she danced. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

I wasn’t quite sure about that, but it was still nice to hear. “So…will I see you tomorrow? Or later today, I guess. At the Mocha.”

I was babbling, but Meredith didn’t seem to notice. “Oh. I’m sure, of course. Why wouldn’t you?”

Because I just fucked your husband while you watched,
I thought. Because he’d gone down on me like the
Titanic
after hitting an iceberg. Just because.

“Silly Tesla,” she said, and gave me another hug, then backed up the sidewalk toward their front door. “Drive carefully. Text me when you get home, okay? The roads look icy.”

I had so much else to say and no words to say it. So instead I nodded and got in my car and drove home. I texted her from the driveway; there was room in the garage for only Vic and Elaine’s vehicles, and I wasn’t quite ready to brave the cold between my car and the front door. As it turned out, I was smart to gather up those few extra moments of warmth, because when I got to the front door, I couldn’t get in.

“Shit.” My fingers were already getting numb as I fumbled with the key, which didn’t fit neatly into the lock the way it should’ve. It was nearly three in the morning, everyone was in bed, and Vic had obviously made his rounds.

I tried it again. This time, it broke off in the lock. Shit.

I had my phone in my purse. Elaine wouldn’t appreciate it if I woke them all up by calling the house phone. I could send Vic a text, but he wouldn’t like being woken an hour before he had to get up. And that was if he even heard the ping of the message coming in. I slept with my phone next to me on the nightstand, but Vic often left his downstairs next to his wallet and keys, so he wouldn’t forget it when he went off to work.

“Shit,” I muttered again, and took two steps off the square of concrete that made up the front porch.

Vic’s house was on a nice residential street with decent lighting from the streetlamps, but around the side and back of the house, along the screened porch, it was all darkness. Our neighbor had a motion-activated light I set off as I walked around the house, but it shone mostly into his own backyard and made his dog bark. It didn’t do much for me. I settled for using the flashlight app on my phone, which meant exposing my already frozen fingers to the air.

Which meant I dropped my phone into the bushes along the side of the porch. And into the puddle that ran off from the gutters and hadn’t yet frozen. I wasn’t sure which was worse, the splash of water or the crunch of plastic on concrete.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck…” I grabbed at it, found it, but couldn’t see if it had been permanently damaged. I clutched it to me with a silent prayer to the gods of technology that I wouldn’t have to replace it.

Then, determined, freezing and more than a little pissed off, I yanked on the porch door hard enough to pull the small hook-and-eye lock out of the wood. The hook dangled, still in the eye, and when I closed it behind me I took the time to shove the screw end back into the door. Vic had fixed it a dozen times, but the wood was old and soft, and too many people had yanked the lock loose.

Vic had winterized the windows with large plastic sheets, but it wasn’t any warmer inside. At least the furniture was all stacked neatly and covered with cloths, so I didn’t have to worry about barking my shins or tripping over something. I had only the smallest hope that the back door, which led to the den, would be unlocked. It wasn’t. Which left the small, narrow windows set just above the floor. One peeked into the rec room, the other the basement storage room. Both were just wide enough for me to get my shoulders through, although if my hips would fit was anyone’s guess, and I could only hope I’d be able to make it without ending up like Pooh stuck in Rabbit’s doorway.

I’d never had a curfew since I’d come to live here with Vic, so had never sneaked into the house this way before. But I had learned how to work the window free of its frame and get out through it in case of a fire. Vic was big on drills for things like that, and since I slept in the basement, he’d put me through all the steps of what to do if the house was burning.

Of course, unlatching the window from its frame on the inside, and pulling it out the way it was manufactured to do, was totally different from wiggling it from the outside. Being unable to feel my fingers didn’t make it any easier, either. Cursing, and close to frustrated tears, I finally worked my fingertips into the small ridges on the sides of the window frame. I pushed, then pushed harder. Metal squealed, and the window came free so fast I fell forward and smacked my face against the rough brick around it. But total bonus, I didn’t drop it.

I managed to hold on to it with one hand and lower it down inside, to the couch directly under the window. Then I put my head and shoulders through, sucking in my belly as it scraped the frame. I had to shift sideways to get my hips through, which left me hanging upside down, and wondering why in the hell I hadn’t gone through feetfirst.

But finally, after much maneuvering, I was able to lower myself onto the couch, and contort myself so that when my legs finally made it all the way through, I wasn’t falling and breaking the window or anything.

None of that mattered much when I rolled off the couch onto the carpeted but still hard-as-concrete rec room floor. Or when a pair of strong hands grabbed me by the back of the neck and one arm, and hauled me upright before shoving me facedown into the carpet again.

I was too surprised to scream, so I kicked instead. Thrashing wildly, I got in a couple good blows before my assailant picked me up again and hurtled me down—this time onto the couch. And the window. Which shattered against my elbow, thankfully protected by my thick pea coat. Then I was thrown back onto the floor, this time with a knee in my back.

I finally managed to scream. Not very loud, since I had no breath and my face was smashed into the carpet. I was a mass of pain. I had glass in my hair; I could hear it crunching against the carpet.

“Tesla?”

The weight on my back disappeared. The hurting, grabbing hands turned kind, helping me up before leaving me to sit woozily. The lights came on.

“Shit. Oh, shit, Tesla. What the fuck were you doing?” Vic crouched in front of me, grasping my upper arms gently. “Oh, honey. What the hell?”

It must’ve been really bad for him to call me honey, an endearment he used only when the kids or Elaine were hurt or sick. I drew in a breath, thinking to yell at him, and found no voice. My elbow throbbed, but I didn’t think I was cut. My face hurt, my back and shoulders ached and even my knees felt scraped raw.

Vic stroked my hair off my forehead with his fingertips, looking into my eyes. “I’m sorry. Christ, you’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

I hadn’t noticed the gun. A SIG Sauer pistol, strapped to his belt in a leather case. I’d seen it hundreds of times before, of course. Had even shot it a few times on the range. I knew what sort of damage it could do, and yet I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around why Vic would have used it on me.