Jack & Lucy

Jack

Lucy texted me when she was on her way and I was a little surprised she didn't call. I force myself off the couch, where I had been flipping the channel between basketball and Forged in the Fire for the past eight hours, and quickly cleared the empty beer bottles and pizza boxes off the small coffee table. I managed to polish off two pizzas and a six-pack and it's been a while since I've been so lazy and gluttonous. I'm going to have to add an extra mile to my run tomorrow but it was totally worth it. 

It's rare to not have Fischer up my ass making plans or spending hours on dating apps having meaningless text exchanges about the same five things. It was nice to leave my phone face down on the floor next to me and just spend the evening however I wanted to spend it. 

I'm just dropping the trash in the bin outside when Lucy's headlights illuminate the driveway. I wait for her to park before pulling her door open. She has a layer of frizz covering her ponytail that's fallen to the side of her head and she looks like she just spent ten hours working in a hot busy bar. She is wiped the fuck out, so I'm stunned when she pops out of the car and throws her arms around my neck. She pulls me into her and aggressively finds my lips with hers. Her icy fingertips slip under my shirt and she spends a few moments sliding them up and over my ribcage, so her hands rest on my chest. 

"Hi Goose," I mutter, trying not to moan. Her teeth gently tug on my lower lip before she says, "Hi Mav."

"How was work?" I ask her and her lips are still only an inch from mine. She looks up at me, through her dark long eyelashes and it's the first time I have seen a look so sexual appear on her pretty face. 

"It was shit. I need wine and you to help me forget about it," she demands and then presses her lips onto mine. Everything she is putting out is making me think she's ready to have sex, but I had wanted to plan it out. Make a whole deal of it. Between kisses, I reply, "Let's go open a bottle then."

Her hand slips out of my shirt and quickly grabs onto my hand to pull me into the garage. I manage to close the garage door, but she is determined to get me into the kitchen so she's pulling me forward. 

"Red or white?" I ask her as we pass the island and I am wondering if I need to go to the fridge or pantry. 

"Red," she says and she only drops my hand so I can get the opener out of the drawer. She hops onto the island between two bar stools so she can swing her heels under the counter.

"That bad huh?" I ask her as I stab the cork. 

"Maggie might be debating on allowing me back now. She's mad that we kept this whole romance from her apparently. Like we were deliberately deceiving her, using her as a pawn in our games," she explains sarcastically and after I yank the cork out, I look behind me. 

"Are you fucking serious? You might be out of a job? Is she that fucking nuts that she'd lose two bartenders during one of her busiest weeks?" I go to open the cupboard that holds my wine glasses when Lucy stops me.

"No glass. Just hand me the damn bottle." I raise an eyebrow but do as I am told. I watch her guzzle down several gulps of the red blend and wonder how she is able to down wine like that. Just watching her burns my throat and gives me heartburn. She finally drops the bottle from her lips and uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth. She holds the bottle out to me but I shake my head, "Red wine and six IPAs don't really mix. I'm good."

"I have tomorrow off, so I don't have to think about Mag's or Maggie. I can drink this whole bottle and forget about the fact that I might not have a job if I want to," she says and then swings the bottle up again. I am not about to enter the sex situation again if she's planning on getting shit-faced. I hope she doesn't try to make a move if she's plastered because I'll tell her no again and I don't want to move backward. 

"Well, what a coincidence. I have tomorrow off too and I don't want to think about my whole unemployment situation either," I tell her and she drops the bottle again. She stretches her long legs out so her toes find my waist and then uses her heels to pull me into her, closing the gap between us. She wraps her legs around my waist and then drops her arms over my shoulders. 

"I think we should do some not thinking together," she suggests and eagerly starts kissing me again. There is no way that her hands and lips are implying anything other than sex. Her fingertips are under my shirt again, but this time they travel up my back. I feel her light touch everywhere and I need to know how far she's going to take this. 

"Luce, what are you thinking here?" I whisper but continue exploring her mouth with my tongue. She tastes like rich wine but smells like she just spent eight hours in a bar. It's a familiar smell, one I've come to associate with her but I know if I tell her, she'd be horrified to know the boozy bar smell reminds me of her. 

"I'm thinking I want you. And that I want to...well you know. But I am also thinking maybe we can ease into it. Or maybe I am thinking I should stop thinking." She rambles as she continues to kiss me. But then she moves her lips off mine and plants kisses down my jawline and ends right under my ear. She uses her tongue to lick my neck and then she sucks the wet skin. My fingers dig into her hips and I really really need to know how far she wants this to go. I could rip off her clothes right here and fuck her on the counter. 

She pulls her face away from my neck and I use the pause to slide my fingers up her sides to remove her shirt. She doesn't hesitate or cover herself up, she just leans forward to yank my shirt off. My eyes devour her and linger on the lace and velvet bra thing she's got on. Her chest is small but she still fills out the lacey cups. I know she's insecure about her cup size but they fit in my palms perfectly. I run a thumb over her nipple, hard enough to move the lace to the side and expose her skin. Her lips find mine again and her legs tighten around me. I have imagined sex with Lucy many times. More than I would ever admit to her because she'd probably be concerned with how little I think of anything else. I knew she'd be soft and familiar but I always wondered how she would be in bed. If she drops her insecurities and anxieties or if she'd force me to have the light off and prefer to remain on her back. But right now, she's under the bright kitchen lights with her top off, leaving hickeys on my neck, so maybe she is a bit more confident in herself than I give her credit for. I decide to see if she's going to let this go all the way, so I slide my hand off her boob and let my fingers trail her torso until I find the snap of her shorts. I undo them in one quick motion and then she finally says, "Jack." I yank my face and hand away as I quickly say, "Sorry. Sorry."

"No, No," she interrupts and then holds my face with her hands. 

"I want to do...stuff. Can we just go slow?" She asks in between heavy breaths. My dick deflates only slightly, I should have predicted it would be blocked by something. This seems to be how it goes with us lately. 

"Yeah, just tell me what you want," I ask her eagerly, wondering how slow she wants to go.

"The problem is I don't know."

"Lucy..."

"I know, I know. I just know I haven't had good sex in months and I want you to just like, take me right here on the counter. But then also I still want to wait," she says before wiping her hands down her face. She then finds the wine bottle and takes another swig. 

"Okay well, I want to rip your shorts off and fuck you right here too, but I agree, I think we should take it slow," I confess and then wonder why the hell I am agreeing to not have sex tonight. Am I really being my own cock block?

"We could do other things? Start there? See where the evening takes us?" She suggests and I am down to still do something. Anything really. 

"You want me to go down on you? Here, lean back, I'll take care of it," I say as I go toward her shorts again, but she puts her hand up and looks horrified. 

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You can't just..." She lets out a shocked laugh, but she's burning red. Is she not used to bluntness?

"What? Tell you I'm going to eat you out on my counter." Laughter bursts out of her. Yeah, she's not used to crude apparently. 

"You do not want my bare ass where you eat your breakfast," she says as she attempts to scootch forward, but I stop her by putting my hands on her thighs. 

"Yeah, I really do," I admit and then drop my head down so I can kiss her.