"Why are you parking out here?" he asked when they got back to her house after dinner.
"Well, I was thinking at dinner."
"Okay," he said.
"Why don't I just stay at your apartment instead of you staying at my house?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes, why would you want to do that?"
"Well, it's not that I don't want to, but I don't have a cat."
"You don't. He'll be fine for the night and you said you'd take me home after school tomorrow."
She snorted softly at that.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, it's ridiculous hearing you talk about going to school."
"I've been saying that for years now."
"I bet you have."
"How about we do this. Tomorrow you can bring some things with you to stay with me after tonight. If you change your mind, no sweat. If you only stay one or two of the nights before your parents get back, that's cool."
"You want me to stay more than once?"
"You can stay as much as you want."
"Don't tempt me."
"Yes, because my apartment compared to your house is so luxurious."
"You aren't at my house. I can't sleep with you at my house."
"Not with your parents' home anyway, no."
"So, it's tempting."
"As long as you're home by curfew there's no saying what you can do, right?"
"No," she said.
"Well then," he said.
She pulled into the garage then, closing the door once she'd done that and shut off her car.
"Did you bring enough for more than one night?"
"Nope," he said.
"Why not?"
"If your brother decides to pay you a visit or something. He has a key, I assume?"
"Yes, but he hasn't."
He leaned over in the seat, brushing her cheek with his hand before kissing her.
"Well, still better not to chance it, yeah?"
"Yes," she whispered as he drew away from her. He didn't move his hand away immediately, though. He followed her inside, surprised when she led him straight up to her bedroom. Not that he was complaining, but he figured she'd take him to the basement or kitchen. Something rather than right up to bed.
She went to the bathroom and he was fully expecting when she came out of her bathroom for her to tell him she'd changed her mind. He wouldn't have blamed her. Last weekend was an accident. He hadn't meant to fall asleep here. This was a planned thing, by someone who didn't have parties when her parents were out of town because she was afraid of getting sent to boarding school. He supposed there was only about six weeks left of school now so that threat wasn't too scary at the moment. She couldn't use the excuse of being high tonight either.
Still, though, huge step. She was watching him, which wasn't saying much because he wasn't doing anything really. He'd been working this job for so long, straight out of school himself pretty much that he'd honestly never planned for an overnight with someone. So, it was a pretty huge step for him, too.
"What?" he asked.
"Something I'm curious about."
"Okay."
Fuck. She was thinking over their conversation and she wasn't as okay with all of what he'd told her as she seemed to be. He couldn't blame her, it was a lot to take in. Like him or not, knowing he told her the truth after all or not, it was still a pretty big deal to find out someone you'd been involved with lied to you.
"You said my age is why …"
"Yeah."
"Isn't consent about any contact?"
He noticed then she'd changed while in the bathroom. He hadn't really paid attention to what she was wearing when she came out. He noticed, though, the top was different and she hadn't been wearing shorts going into the bathroom. He swallowed a bit, realizing too by the outline of her breasts in the top she was wearing that she had removed her bra.
"Well, yes, you're right. Even kissing you the way we've kissed is breaking the law."
"Why have you then?"
She stepped toward him a bit then, the little bit of movement confirming she was braless at the moment.
"Because I like you?" he shrugged.
"Isn't seventeen the age of consent in Illinois?"
"Yes," he said. "However, that doesn't mean your parents if they didn't like me and thought it'd get me away from you wouldn't try to use you being under eighteen. Not everyone is up on the fact that the legal age of consent may not be eighteen."
"Oh," she said.
"I mean, yeah, sure, you're right. It was a convenient excuse, you not being eighteen. I felt better about you being eighteen. You being eighteen meant I would know what I'm doing as far as my job. It meant I would possibly be able to tell you the truth. It meant you wouldn't be a high school student anymore. You know?"
"Oh," she said.
"Plus," he said, when she pressed against him and slid her arms around his neck. He settled a hand against her cheek before drawing her closer so he could kiss her again. He much preferred kissing her this way than leaning toward her in a car with a console between them.
"Plus," she murmured.
He chuckled softly.
"The stuff leading up to it can be fun."
"I guess."
"Have I not made it fun so far?"
"You have. I just," she shrugged. "Wondered."
"You are absolutely right. You are legally old enough to consent. Having a lie between us didn't seem right to me. I sort of figured over the clothes stuff you wouldn't hold completely against me if you found out the truth about me."
"Could my parents really do that?"
"It wouldn't go anywhere, but it could possibly cause me to lose my job. I'm a cop, so I'm sure an argument could be made about holding me to higher, stricter, standards. I mean, my captain knows about you."
"He does?"
"Relax," he whispered, kissing her again. He worked his way to her throat, kissing her there. "Nothing bad, just he knows about you generally speaking. I've told him we're not like that."
"Oh God," she murmured.
He reached for her hands, sliding them to his waist as he kissed her neck again.
"At least you didn't tell him you spent the night."
He chuckled, nipping at her throat. "That's my secret. I'd bet money that most of the guys in the senior class would pay me money to get details on your bedroom. The two or three that wouldn't are probably gay."
She gasped softly as he moved a little lower, kissing another spot on her neck. He wasn't wrong. At all. He knew that and so did she. His breath hitched a bit, causing him to pause in kissing her neck when she slid her hands under his shirt. She was pushing it up, which was what he was hoping she'd do when he set her hands at his waist. It had to be her idea, though.
He pulled away from her long enough for her to draw his shirt up and over her head, dropping it at their feet. He shuddered a bit as she trailed her fingertips over his skin.
"Did you give me a hickey?"
"Yup," he said, running a fingertip over the spot on her neck. "I was thinking about giving it a friend."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Your parents aren't home for days. When's the next time I'm going to be able to do it? Isn't that what high school couples do?"
"I've never had one…"
"Okay, you excluded."
"You've had a lot?"
He scoffed.
"No. A few, but not a lot."
"Can I?"
"Give me one?" he shrugged. "Sure. Wherever you want."
"I'm sorry?"
He chuckled then, taking her hand and kissing the palm of it before settling it against his chest again.
"Hickeys can be made anywhere you want to make them."
"Oh," she said.
"Hadn't thought of that?"
"No," she said.
"I'm glad."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Call me a possessive ass, I don't know. I like that you haven't even thought of these things until now."
"Only with you."
"Music to my ears."
"I shouldn't admit it."
"Why?"
She shrugged then.
He set a hand against her cheek again, kissing her. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, Claire. I've told you the truth, laid it out for you. I realize we've only just started dating but I have no intention of blowing you off or anything."
"I know."
"I'm glad," he said. "Besides, it'll be summer soon, any you give me would show."
"Why?"
"Why?" he asked, confused by her question.
"Why would they show?"
"When I don't wear a shirt…"
"Oh," she said, and he chuckled softly at the blush on her cheeks at that.
"Unless you planned on giving me some further south than that…"
"I," she said, eyes darting to his waist.
"Relax, Princess, I'm teasing you. I really just liked knowing I can give you one. I'll try not to make a habit of it."
"It's okay. I don't mind. It feels kind of nice."
"Really?"
"Uh huh," she said.
"Well, after Mommy and Daddy get back when you're ready for me to make you feel nice anywhere else, let me know."
"I have to wait until they get back?"
"Well, no," he said cautiously.
She slid her hands to her waist then, drawing her shirt up and off.
"I guess that not eighteen thing really was on your mind," he said. "You don't waste any time."
"Why should I? You said it's not illegal."
"No," he said.
"Then?"
"I, uh, do I sound like I'm arguing? If I am, I'm sorry. I don't mean to. If you knew what was going through my mind right now, you'd know I'm not arguing."
"What's going through your mind?"
"Surprised you took your bra off."
"That's all?"
He chuckled. "No. I plead the fifth on the rest."
"I don't think you can do that."
He laughed a bit. "Perhaps not."
"I want you to make me feel nice other places."
"Well, all right then," he said.
"Just…"
"Just?" he said as he leaned in to kiss her neck again, only this time he slid his lips along her throat to her shoulder without her top in the way.
"My shorts…"
"Hey," he murmured as he slid a fingertip along her collarbone. "You took off your shirt, I didn't do that."
"I know."
"Not that I haven't thought about it most every day since that day of detention."
"Only most every day?"
"I think the day of Penny's funeral, not so much with those thoughts."
"Thank you," she whispered as he slid his mouth lower so he could kiss the top of her breast.
"I can be somewhat considerate."
"Good to know," she whispered.
He nipped at a spot on her breast, licking it before drawing away. "Is that a good spot to make you feel nice?"
"Uh huh," she whispered.
He chuckled as he moved them to her bed. It wasn't that far from where they'd been standing anyway. He watched her for a bit as she was laying there. He'd never in a million years imagined she'd invite him so boldly to feel her up.
"What?" she asked, reaching to cover up with her hands.
"Don't," he said quickly. "You're gorgeous, Princess."
"I am not."
"Are, too," he said. He slid a fingertip along the top of her breasts, down a little grazing each nipple lightly causing her to groan softly. Should he be doing this? He wasn't really sure. She was right, she was legal to consent.
"Covering yourself would be a crime."
"You'd know."
He chuckled a bit at that. "I would."
She shifted on the bed and he did, too.
"Stop looking at me," she said, blushing deeply.
"I can't help it. I like looking at you."
"Oh," she said. "I guess I can understand that."
He laughed then. "You would."
"No! I mean," she said, running a fingertip over one of his nipples. "I like looking at you, too."
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh."
"Good to know."
"I guess you do really like me," she whispered a while later. He'd stopped paying homage to her incredible breasts and kissed her stomach before leaning up to kiss her again.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked. A quick glance at her clock told him more than an hour had gone by. He couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd spent an hour touching and kissing someone's breasts before. Nope, he was pretty sure he hadn't ever done it.
It was, he had to admit, one of the most frustratingly enjoyable hours he'd spent in his life.
"No, I just mean, you haven't even tried…"
"I'm actually quite content doing what I've been doing."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You don't have to thank me."
"Well, I'm not sure I wouldn't be tempted to let you."
"Why? I know you know how to say no."
She shrugged, running her fingers through his hair as she shifted a bit to kiss him.
"I don't know I'd want to say no."
"Ah," he whispered. "Well, if you want me to act like an ass I can."
"No," she said laughing a bit.
"Okay then."
"This can't be very fun for you, though."
"I don't know what part of the past hour or so you think wouldn't be fun for me."
"Yes, but…"
"Claire," he whispered, running a fingertip along the edge of a nipple and then the other.
"Trust me, this is fun. I mean, you know, it's not as fun as Mr. Palmer making us run laps…"
"Ha ha, smart ass."
"Well, see. You know that's a ridiculous thing to say."
"But you don't get anything out of it."
"Bite your tongue."
"I'd rather bite yours."
He chuckled. "Anytime, Princess, just not hard enough to draw blood."
"I'd try to refrain from doing that, I'm sure."
"Now, if you wanted to take your shorts off…"
"See, you're not supposed to say that."
He chuckled. "Afraid?"
"Yes."
"Of me?"
"No! Of me!"
"Touching and kissing you anywhere definitely gets me something, Princess."
"Sure, frustrated."
He shrugged. "It's all right. Am I complaining?"
"Well…"
"I'm not! I didn't have to come back here with you, I didn't have to invite you to come stay with me. Both of those things I did, knowing or at least being ninety-nine percent sure I wasn't getting sex out of the deal."
"Ninety-nine percent sure?"
"Well, there's always that one percent chance that you'll have your wicked, wild way with me when I'm sleeping."
"Would that work?"
"Well, sure. I mean, you'd have to do something to get that part of me able."
"Oh," she said, blushing and he chuckled again.
"Now, if you're asking out of legitimate interest in the answer. I get able a few times a night."
"Every night?"
"Well, I'm not awake to know, but yeah. It's part of being a guy. We wake up that way and everything. I think I read in a book somewhere that it's a cycle, like dreaming. You know?"
"Huh."
"You want to stay awake and watch, let me know."
"Not tonight."
"Well, the invitation is an open one."
"Funny."
"I'm pretty sure I'm not joking, especially if you watching was because you wanted to find out when you could have your wicked, wild way with me."
"I don't think I'd be ready for that."
"I bet you didn't think you were ready to take your shirt off for a guy either, yet here you did that."
"I know!"
"Was that scary?"
"More than you'll know."
"I bet, at least you don't have things under it to turn people off."
"You don't either," she whispered, running a fingertip along his lip.
"Thanks for saying so."
"I'm not just saying that. I like looking at you, John."
"That is good to hear."
"So you could really do this until my birthday?"
"Uh, yes. Sure."
"Just wondering."
"Hey, you're in charge."
"Not completely."
"Yes, completely. Always."
"Well, that can't be very fun for you."
"All right, maybe not always as in forever, but at least when we're at this point you are."
"When would that change?"
"I don't know. I've never been in a position to know."
"No?"
"Nope."
"What about that girl?"
"We never got to the point where I would presume sex came with a date or every time I saw her or anything. I never stayed the night with her or her with me."
"Really?"
"Really."
"When does that become a presumption?"
"I don't know. I just said I'd never been in a position to know."
"Maybe we'll find out together then," she whispered, running a fingertip along his jaw.
"Maybe so, Princess."
That concept should have scared the shit out of him for a variety of reasons, the main one being how young she was. Age of consent or not, she was still in high school and so much more to do with her life. College and a job. He didn't find it very scary tonight, though.
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com