Page 30 of Apex of the Curve
“Yup.”
“Fine, you go get my honey.”
“Shit, fuck. I forgot about that,” I said.
“Oh, I know you did.”
“Fine,” I grated. “I’ll get my shower, get your honey, bring it back here, then go to the club.”
“Then you can borrow my truck,” he said.
“Rat bastard,” I muttered, getting up.
“What’s that make you?” he asked as I was leaving, making for the stairs up to my room and the bathroom.
“Makes me a rodent of unusual size,” I said flexing and took the stairs to a track of my dad’s laughter.
It’d been my sister’s favorite movie when we were kids – The Princess Bride.
I stayed under the hot shower’s spray for a while and thought furiously, questioning myself, trying to decide if that was why I was doing the things I was doing where Aspen was concerned.
Did she remind me of my sister?
No, not really. I mean, maybe in some ways but definitely not looks or anything. That’d be creepy as fuck and incestuous and that was not my bag.
What was my bag were those green eyes of hers; luminous, like pale green kunzite crystal set in her round face. Her pale cheeks dusted with her blushing, those Hollywood lips of hers so full and beautiful, I couldn’t help but imagine all the ways I would like to defile them.
I closed my eyes and fisted my cock, imagining what it would look like, her on her knees, pressing the head of my dick to that pouting bottom lip of hers, begging for entry. Her hot, wet, little pink tongue flashing out to taste the tip.
I groaned, letting my imagination run away from me, stroking my cock with my hand as it throbbed with desire.
Did I think I would ever get the opportunity to receive a blowjob from Miss Aspen Lawson? No, not really, but a guy could dream.
I took my time, let my imagination run wild, and finished to a rather unsatisfactory conclusion. That conclusion being there wouldn’t be anything like the real thing but I was also pretty keenly aware that I was cruising toward the friend zone.
While the notion was disappointing, I was okay with that. I wanted to be her friend and see her heal. I guess I’d been taking people apart for so long, I wanted to know what it felt like to put one back together.
Huh.
That piece of self-analysis and introspection went way deeper than I thought it would.
I shut off the water and sighed out. I had pretty much all day to kill before meeting up with Aspen. The errand I had to run for my dad wouldn’t take much time, just a run out to the Bee Queen farm in Puyallup for the couple of five-gallon buckets of wildflower honey they had set aside for me and my pops. We were supposed to get our homebrew on this weekend.
We were a couple of Viking types for sure – very into our heritage, cooking meat over fire, homebrewing mead, taking an axe to a few motherfuckers that deserved it.
I stopped drying myself as memories flooded in that were best left locked in their vault. I really didn’t want to think about some of the shit I’d done. While I didn’t regret doing it for the bastards that I’d killed, I did regret some things. Sleeping at night was entirely too easy after some of the shit I’d gotten away with.
Still, nothing I’d done was going to bring my sister back. I’d turned myself into one grade-A fucking monster and though it wasn’t for nothing in the face of her loss, it sure felt like it.
Disconcerted by my introspections, I gritted my teeth, got my ass fixed up and dressed and took myself back downstairs.
“Honey,” my dad reminded me, and I scowled at him.
“I ain’t old like you,” I said, lifting his truck keys off their hook and putting mine up. “I ain’t got memory problems.”
“Har, har, fuck you, boy! You’re gonna be me sooner rather than later.”
“Odin’s beard I hope I’m fuckin’ not,” I said.
