Page 77 of Confessions of a Carpool Captive
The heat of the sun on my face awakens me. The rays burst into his room from the window. I’m on my back and Finn’s arm is across my chest. He’s lying on his stomach, sound asleep. The covers are a jumbled mess between us and his bare ass is on full display. Giggling to myself, I wonder if I left a bruise where I nibbled on it last night. I lost count after the third time we made love. It was an all-nighter and he was a perfect giver and recipient every second of it. I close my eyes and remember his face when he came inside me the first time. Thoughts of his touch and his lips rouse a need in me. I can’t believe I still want more.
The urge to pee hits me full force so I carefully slide out from under him and make my way to his bathroom.
The toothbrush I used the last time I was here is next to his in the holder. The fact that he kept it and put it by his makes me smile in wonder. After washing my hands, I crawl back into bed, sliding on top of him and running my fingers over his thighs.
“Hmm…” he moans lightly.
“The two times I’ve seen you in the morning, you were hard as a rock. Now I know it’s entirely possible after last night’s extravaganza that you’re tapped out, but in case you’re not…”
I plant gentle kisses down the center of his back and he rolls over. He doesn’t disappoint. I bite my lip.
“You tell me. Do you think I’m hard?”
I kiss his stomach, licking his abs and slowly descend upon him, pursuing his orgasm as if my life depended on it. He grips my hair in his hand and moans. It doesn’t take long.
I smile my way back up to his face and he’s breathing heavily.
“I think I need to wake up like this every morning.”
“That could be arranged,” I reply.
He flips me on my back and leans his forehead into mine. “So last night was real? I didn’t dream it?” he asks.
“It was very, very real,” I reply. “I have the sore muscles to prove it.”
“Too sore for more?” he asks, planting soft, arousing kisses down my face to my neck. I moan in approval. He kisses his way back up to my ears, where he whispers, “You’re amazing.”
Smiling, I turn to face him. In the light, I see his tattoo again and gently lift my hand to touch it.
“The Journey?” I ask. “What does that mean?”
He leans on his elbow. “Do you remember last night when I told you that I understood how you felt?”
I nod.
“It’s a long story. Do you want to hear it right now?”
“Of course I do.”
He sits up in bed and scrubs his hands over his face, turning back to me and attempting to smile. I see something in his eyes that worries me, so I sit up as well, grasping the covers around my chest.
“I have a younger brother named Keegan. There’s a five-year age difference between us. Growing up, we were polar opposites in every way. He was a free spirit from birth and I was a constant worrier, plagued with anxiety and pessimism.”
“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” I respond.
“Itwasme, ‘was’ being the key word. When Keegan and I were kids, we were really close. I stressed over every crazy risk he took and picked up the pieces when things went wrong. He’d climb trees and swing like a monkey and I’d stand beneath him, worrying I wouldn’t catch him when he fell. No matter how many broken bones or cuts and bruises he had, it never changed him. He was always smiling, always ready to take the next risk that came along.”
He turns a bit to face me. “After years of watching him take stupid risks, I gave up. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. We grew apart. He’d beg me to come with him on some stupid adventure and I’d tell him to fuck off. I’d warn him of the risks and tell him how dumb he was for taking them. I told him he was going to end up dead or crippled. He’d just laugh.”
He huffs lightly and smiles as if he’s remembering something. “He once told me, ‘What’s the point of living if you spend it worrying about dying?’ I thought he was insane, but I also resented him. My parents allowed him freedoms I didn’t have. I studied hard, worked hard, and did what I was told. Keegan flew by the seat of his pants. Never studied or cared much for rules, yet it seemed to me he was their favorite.”
I nod my head and intertwine my arm with his. He kisses my forehead as I lean my head on his shoulder.
“I wasn’t a very good guy to be around. I’ll admit it. Negativity and sarcasm were my defining traits. I had a handful of like-minded friends. But we tolerated each other rather than enjoying each other’s company. I preferred to work alone and be alone. Sound familiar?”
He nudges me a bit and I lift my head to look in his eyes. I shrug and he smiles.
“Anyway, fast-forward a few years. I’d graduated from college and took a dead-end job as a runner in a consulting company and Keegan? Keegan played in a band. He sang and played guitar. Barely made any money, lived with my parents, and was happier with scraping by than I was with a regular salary and my own place. He’d call me all the time, asking me to come see him play, but I’d tell him I was too busy.”
