35:Normal

The girls were a delight to play with and Charlie envied the simplicity of what made them happy.  A couple of dolls, a fairy voice and their imaginations brought them more fulfillment than she’d experienced in decades.  Humans were far too interested in becoming adults, in her opinion, and didn’t realize the problem with that until it was too late.  They shortchanged themselves of the magical childhood years and spent the rest of their lives wishing to go back.

That’s awfully deep for playtime, Charlie.

“Okay you beautiful Bongiovi dolls,” Desiree announced her arrival.  “It’s time to get ready for bed.  Thank Miss Charlie for keeping you company and pick up your things.  Your bubble bath awaits.”

“Oh my goodness, I had fun with you girls.” She hugged both of them with genuine warmth.  “Thank you sooo much for letting me play!”

“Can you again tomorrow?” Micah Jane was just as much of a go-getter as her Uncle Jon, even though the impact of it was softened by childish sweetness and the Tinkerbell doll hanging in the crook of her arm. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to go home.  My vacation is over,” she apologized with a frown.

The little girl’s face puckered into a pout and the baby scowl was so reminiscent of Tony that Charlie couldn’t help but laugh to herself.  This child was going to be a volatile Italian and not a genteel Southerner like her mama.

“Micah Jane, you go on with Aunt Des,” that genteel woman coaxed.  “We’ll see Miss Charlie again soon.  Maybe she can come to our house for Daddy’s birthday party.”

Smoothing down her skirt and rising to her feet, Charlie was hesitant to acknowledge the suggestion.  Now knowing for certain that Lilah’s family didn’t appreciate the invitations she issued and realizing how awkward it could be running into Jon at a family event after their fling was done, Charlie thought it best to let it pass.

Unaware of the potential for awkwardness, Lilah reiterated the proposal once the girls had trudged away with Desiree and left the two of them to gather doll clothes and shoes.  “I was serious ‘bout that.  I’d like to consider us friends now, no matter what goes on with that butthead brother-in-law of mine.”

“That’s very sweet, and we are friends, but I just can’t commit to that right now.  I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” the German Shepherd acquiesced with a sweet smile as she accepted Charlie’s bundle of doll accessories to tuck into the case she held.  “It’s not until October, so you have some time to think about it and… see what happens between now and then.” 

Nothing was going to happen between now and then other than her firm separation from the Bongiovis, Charlie was sure.  In the interest of her newly forged friendship however, she agreeably inquired, “Tony’s birthday is in October?  So is mine.”

“Oh?”  This news seemed to please Lilah.  “His is the eleventh.  What day is yours?”

Laughing at the irony of it, she confessed, “The eleventh.”

“Well, that settles it!  You’re comin’ and we’re celebratin’ you, too.  Micah Jane is gonna be so tickled.”

“No promises.”  Charlie delivered the warning firmly, following it up with, “And that was a low blow bringing M.J. into it.”

“What?”  Eyes sparkling with mischief as she zipped up the doll case, Lilah tried her best to convey a look of innocence.  “Just because my baby girl will probably spend a week makin’ you a present shouldn’t make you feel obligated.  Not at alllll.”

Feeling those tenacious teeth sink into her figurative leg, Charlie decided that she’d been right.  Cute and fuzzy but fiercely isnistent, Lilah Bongiovi was definitely a full-blooded German Shepherd.

J J J J J

Jon was sitting amongst a group of college-age kids that had no idea why he wanted to hang out with them.  Hanging out wasn’t exactly what had driven him to poolside where they all sprawled over the lounge chairs.  He had been more in search of an escape from the three matchmaking stooges that were trying to pit him with a woman he despised outside of bed.

That’s why he was perched on a corner of one of those loungers, currently offering to run with Caleb the next morning. 

“I know you mentioned running when you first got here.  Why don’t you meet me in the morning and we’ll kick each other’s butts down the beach?”

Eyes that were the same cocoa shade as the counselor’s darted questioningly to Jesse and then Noah, perhaps to gauge their opinion on the matter.  Either he didn’t see anything to warn him off or he decided to go with the flow because he gave Jon a negligent shrug and agreed.   “Sure.  What time?”

“Eight.  By the main beach entrance.”  Jon swept an open hand across the group that included his two eldest, Noah and Sydney.  “And anybody else that wants to come is welcome, of course.  Matt runs, so he might tag along.”

No one eagerly jumped at the opportunity, but he hadn’t expected them to.  Jon was only trying to be polite and perhaps distract himself from the reality that he was actively choosing to bond with one of the counselor’s kids.

I liked the kid before I knew who he was.  It has nothing to do with his mother or any motherfucking future.

“Jon?  I’m ready for that tour of the house whenever you are.”

Based on the content of what was said, Jon knew who it was, but hearing his name falling from her lips in that tone of voice set him on edge.  Before that moment, he was pretty sure the only time the counselor had even spoken his name was during sex and, by comparison, the quiet normalcy of it now was disconcerting.

They didn’t do normal.  They did angry sex.  It was their families that were trying to instigate normal, and the reminder, along with his brain’s taunt about bonding with Caleb, sent his temper flaring anew.  In his current state of agitation, he was going to start an argument with her so that things were back to their normal. 

Getting away from other people was an excellent idea. 

“Now’s fine.”  Neutrality was the name of the game in the presence of their kids, whom he smiled at when standing.  “You have all been reprieved from the old guy.  Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, he staged his exit through the waist-high gate to where the counselor waited on the other side and swept an open hand toward the house.  She understood that he was encouraging her to lead the way, and when she did, he fell in step beside her. 

“Hi,” she greeted quietly after they’d covered a few feet of lawn. 

It was almost as off-putting as the way she’d said his name.  Normal.

“We’re not doing this tonight.” 

Yes, he was being cantankerous and a general all-purpose asshole, but he could no longer separate this woman – whom he had extensive carnal knowledge of – from the one everybody was pushing at him as a… girlfriend.  It was royally pissing him off that his continuing carnal education had been spoiled by those jackasses sitting at the table with the little Kentucky kook.

“Not doing what?  Looking at the house?”  For once, she didn’t seem inclined to jump down his throat.  Her question was merely a question, and that made him mad, too.

“Each other,” he ground out while keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

They were quickly approaching the jackasses and the kook, and his plan was to bypass them as much as possible by going in through the kitchen.  Once he and the counselor were inside, away from prying eyes and nosy ears, he would clarify tonight’s plans – or new lack thereof – in private.

“Where ya goin’?”  Lilah, with whom he was more irritated than anyone, called when she caught sight of them trying to sneak in the back door. 

Maybe it was only his irritation that filled her question with mocking and innuendo, but he heard it as plainly as the cricket chorus that was tuning up for the night.  If he spoke to her, it wasn’t going to be nicely, so he kept his mouth shut and left the counselor to explain the house tour.

“Oh, hey.  You might if I tag along?  I’d love to see what the inside looks like, from a professional standpoint.” Automatically assuming that he would be welcome, Luke didn’t wait for an answer but moved to join them.  

Once again, damage control became the counselor’s responsibility, because Jon’s hand was already on the kitchen door.  “Not yet,” she curtly told her brother, still noticeably put out with him.  “He’s going to get me something for a headache first.  Give us five minutes.”

Jon appreciated that none of them were in his line of vision as he passed into the modernly traditional kitchen.  If their expressions held half the mocking and innuendo as he’d heard in Lilah’s question, he would advise them all to go directly to hell.

The soft clop of sandals on hardwood told him that she was following as he resolutely made for the downstairs guest bath.  It was the most feasible location to find medicine for her manufactured headache and would offer the desired privacy.   He waited for her to precede him into the compact half-bath and stepped in to close the door behind them.

“What the hell is your problem?” she demanded without hesitation, rotating as he stepped around her to lean against the sink.  “I have been on my best behavior tonight.  There’s a damn padlock on my muzzle, so it can’t be something I’ve done.”

Her heated demand and confrontational posture had Jon’s anger adrenaline straining to convert into another kind of adrenaline.  He was sorely tempted to shut her mouth by covering it with his, but that wasn’t going to cancel tonight’s rendezvous.  It would just bring it to the here and now, with only four minutes until her brother came barging in.

Not enough time, and you sure as hell don’t need to add fuel to his “my sister needs a guy like you” fire.

“I’m not interested in screwing around tonight.”  The declaration was as flat and cold as the marble countertop on which he leaned.  “Vacation fling is over.”

Silky mahogany waves swayed with the instantaneous shake of her head.  “The hell it is.  I don’t care what’s got you in a snit.  You promised me once more, and you’re not backing out now.”

God, it was so easy to get wound up with her.  Even a mild-mannered Englishman would find himself enraged by her antagonistic personality.  A hot-blooded Italian didn’t stand a damn chance of having a reasonable discussion. 

“Or what?” he scoffed.  "You gonna sue me for breach of verbal contract?” 

“Worse than that.”  She closed the short distance between them with a single step and clamped her hand over the fly of his shorts, lightly grinding the heel into what lay beneath.  “I’ll remind you why you agreed in the first place, and then leave you to walk out of here with a third leg.”

“The hell you will.” 

Forcibly detaching her hand did no good because the other one swooped in to ambidextrously pick up the slack.  She was determined to give him a hard-on and his body couldn’t understand why he wasn’t excited about it.

“Don’t toy with me, Bongiovi,” she recommended while sliding down to the base of the zipper placket where she assertively cupped his boys.  “I’m not asking you to be nice – in fact I almost prefer that you’re not – nor am I trying to latch on for something longer than tonight.  I just want to ride you into the sunset of my vacation, Cowboy.”

In that moment, with his dick going stiff and her wicked little hand going to town on his balls, he hated her almost as much as he did those people outside.  More specifically, he hated her ability get his blood boiling.  The distinctive simmer she could instigate with a snap of her fingers had become his dirty, guilty pleasure.   When her manipulating grope turned up the heat on that simmer, it sent him bubbling over the top.

“You are such a bitch.”  Grabbing her waist, he walked her back until her hips hit the door with a quiet thunk.  Hands dropped from waist to thighs so he could shove her skirt up and agitatedly growl, “I swear you wear these goddamn dresses to tease me with how easy it is to take your pussy.  The pussy that wants me to split it wide open.” 

“Added benefit,” she breathed, readily parting her thighs without hesitation and groaning when his finger plowed inside.  “Godddd, I’ve been looking forward to that all day.”

Pushing a second finger to join the first, Jon relished the sweltering slickness that was already flooded.  He silently cussed himself for his physical vulnerability to her, following that up with curses for her exploitation of it.  His forehead bumped softly against the door as he fingered hard and fast enough to wrench out her helpless whimper.

“We don’t have time for this,” he whispered hotly, cruelly scraping a thumb over her clit and making her gasp.  “And you have only yourself to blame when you get left hanging this time.”

“I like the delayed gratification.  It makes me come harder when you finally fuck me.”

Her lack of remorse made him all the crazier, turning the fire on his blood boil up another notch.  As much as he hated her, she turned him on in ways he’d never dreamed of, and drowning in the throes of it provoked him to do something he seldom ever did – change his mind.  

“Fine.  The bitch wins, Counselor.”  Jon smirked at the quiet squeak of protest when he abruptly withdrew from her sucking heat.  “You’ll get your sunset ride, but I’m gonna make you pay dearly for the privilege.”