House Rules: The Jack Gordon Story (8 page)

“Yo,
Gordon, phone call.” A hand poked his shoulder.

Jack
rolled, groaning when the sunlight hit his hangover right between the eyes.
“Some girl again. Big surprise.” His friend’s laughter echoed as he retreated
back into the hall. Jack sat, rubbing his aching forehead. It was Sunday. The
one day he allowed himself to sleep in, which was good, considering he usually
woke up in a tangle of feminine arms and legs on those mornings.

But
today he had woken up alone. He dragged a shirt over his head and stumbled out
to answer the phone.

“Jack!”
He leaned against the cinderblock wall of his shitty apartment painted a lurid
yellow that week, as a fraternity pledge class prank. Assholes had broken in
and done it, drunk all his beer, and left the place a huge mess. Trying to
focus on the voice, to pretend as if he knew who it was so as not to hurt
anyone’s delicate female feelings, he saw Rob, his roommate and self-appointed
new partner in female defilement, standing around naked.

The
tall blond guy gave him a mock salute and headed for the shower. Jack groaned,
realizing that last sip of the last bottle of bourbon they had shared before
pouring the rest over the naked torsos of the girls they were fucking on his
bedroom floor had been one too many.

“Jack!”
the voice yelped again. He frowned and straightened up.

“Mo?”
He dropped onto the carpet, not seeing all the mess he needed to clean up.
Guilt flooded his brain. He had not paid much attention to her in the last
couple of years, other than to see her in the summers while he worked for his
father and lived in a rented house near downtown Ann Arbor.

“Dad’s
getting married.”

“Oh,
um, okay.” He sat up straight, memories of Mindy so bright and clear they were
like a knife slicing into his chest.

“You
gotta come home,” she went on, her voice breaking.

“Mo,
what’s wrong?” He tried to make his voice sound stronger than he felt.

“It’s
Maimeo
. She had a stroke. Dad’s freaking out. It’s the only reason I
knew he was getting married. Some lady showed up, some…younger lady, and… oh
shit, Jack I need you to come home. Just for a while, like a few days, I
guess.” He heard her suck in a breath, holding back tears, as usual.  His brain
clicked in as he flipped through his list of schoolwork that week. Midterms
were over. He still had the 4.0 GPA that he demanded of himself. He could take
the time away and would even if he couldn’t. His sister needed him.

“Okay,
honey, I’ll, um…when is the, I mean. Never mind. I’ll leave this afternoon,
home by dinner, okay?”

“Okay,”
the girl’s voice was quiet. “I told Brandis already so he’s expecting you.” His
high school pal had stayed in Ann Arbor to attend the University of Michigan
and was in the Air Force ROTC.

“Oh,
uh, sure, thanks.” He got to his feet, his knees wobbly, his head starting to
pound from emotion and last night’s excesses. He saw a slight female form
emerge from the second bathroom, her bright auburn hair like a beacon in the
early morning gloom.

He
groaned. Shit, had they? He honestly could barely remember past the mini orgy
he’d hosted early in the night.

The
girl turned as if reading his mind, blew him a kiss that he knew was ironic,
and started toward the door. “Wait,” he called out, needing nothing more than a
solid reality session from his friend, the lovely, smart-assed, redhead
Suzanne. He held up a hand.

She
stopped but pointed to her watch.

“Mo,
I’ll be there by dinner, promise. Gotta go sort out some stuff first.
Loveyoubye.” He ran the words together and hung up.

“I’ve
got study group. What do you want?” Suzanne asked from the opposite end of the
hall.

He
stayed put, hands on the wall, steadying himself. He had met Suzanne the first
day of class, in freshmen English, not his best subject but he was too busy
scoping out his targets to care. When he’d spotted her, he did not have his
usual automatic thought about what her face would look like when he made her
come. He had smiled at her pixie-like good looks, at the natural, easy-going
way she observed him observing her.

She’d
avoided him for a week or so, brushing off his invites to fraternity parties,
for coffee, to even walk alongside him as if she knew he’d be bad news.

He
jumped when she touched his shoulder, closed his eyes at her scent. He was
falling for her. He knew it. So perversely, he kept turning his personality
dial to “asshole,” hoping she’d get the message and give up on him.

He
was not about to get attached to anyone. Considering how easy it was to channel
his father when he wanted to, he figured it was for her own good.

“So….”
He turned, looking down at her petite self. “Was I good?” His pulse raced. He
sincerely hoped he had not gotten so drunk he would not remember having sex
with this girl he considered his good friend. He couldn’t remember when she’d
shown up.

She
laughed, punched him hard in the stomach, catching him off guard. “You wish,
lover boy.” She leaned back, crossing her arms and giving him a strange look.
“You were in rare form across the hall for a while, with Freitag, but that’s
nothing new. I just sat with Jeff and Mike, smoked a few and fell asleep on
your couch. I think he likes me.” Her dark eyes brightened. Jack bit the inside
of his cheek to resist telling her that Mike had a girlfriend.

He
held out an arm, and she settled herself comfortably against his chest. His
heart calmed and for the millionth time since she had finally agreed to “hang
out” – never “go out” – with him. At that moment he had to use every weapon in
his personal arsenal not to toss her over his shoulder and take her to bed.

Something
in him wanted it so bad he ached, and he’d channeled the feeling into fucking a
different girl every week, sometimes more than one. He couldn’t go there with
Suzanne. He wasn’t ready. He was a shithead, and she deserved better. Jack had
no intention of settling down. Not now, maybe not ever. But the pull of
Suzanne’s looks and personality was very strong.

“What’s
wrong?” she asked, making him sigh at her prescience.

He
led her back to his room. Rob emerged from the shower, damp, a towel around his
waist. He shot the two of them a look. Jack flipped him off then slammed his
door in the guy’s face.

“It’s
my grandma. She’s probably dying. Apparently I’m getting a stepmother. I don’t
know. Shit.” He sat and to his surprise, Suzanne slid immediately into his lap
and wrapped her arms around his neck. His body reacted in a healthy fashion,
but his heart hurt so badly he didn’t push her away this time. She felt so
right to him. He had told her about his dad, his mother’s death, his drive to
be better, to prove that he was everything John Gordon would never be. She’d
chided him before, but now she just held onto him.

“Um,
yeah.” She shifted when his erection made itself well known beneath her. “I
should go. You need to pack.”

He
tightened his grip and she didn’t resist all that much. When he found her lips
with his, their instant familiar softness made him sigh. They’d been here
before, on a winter break trip when they’d gotten drunk and high and ended up
together more than once that long weekend. It had taken Jack weeks to work up
the courage to call her after that and she’d avoided him too. Finally he’d seen
her at a party, pulled her aside and they’d agreed that it had been a one-off,
fun and all, but their friendship was more important. He knew it then—he
probably did love her, should love her. They would make a great couple. So he
had to avoid her like the plague.

She
sighed as he parted her lips with his tongue gently, with no urgency, no rush,
just a sweet moment, a perfect fit. He groaned as she turned to straddle him,
lifting her skirt just enough so he could feel her heat against his. The kiss
got serious then, as he ran his lips down her neck, cupped one of her pert
breasts. The familiarity of it was a relief, and more of a turn-on than any
challenge he could remember.

“Jack,”
she whispered, her breath getting ragged. “We…I’m…oh…,” she sighed as he lifted
her shirt so he could tug one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She tasted
like tart, red-headed perfection. His brain was flooded with a need so strong
he couldn’t get his hands around it, couldn’t control it. That scared him, but
he refused to slow down. Her hands were fisted in his hair, her petite body
wrapped around him. He took her face in his hands and stared at her.

“I
can’t do this again, Suzanne. It will…mean too much. Not after…you know.”

Without
a word she reached to his drawer and pulled out a condom.

“No,”
he whispered.

She
opened it, slid the thin latex over his shaft. When she stood and shed her
shirt and skirt it was like a dream, a bizarre half-sleeping moment. She pushed
him onto his back, leaned down to lick his nipples, making him groan and shift
his hips involuntarily. He pulled her up to meet his gaze. “You’re sure?”

Suzanne
nodded, but he stopped when saw the tears in her eyes. He would not make this
girl cry, not for anything, not even if it meant cutting her off as a friend.
They would never work. He was a shit. She was perfect.

Her
lips covered his and his resolve broke into a million pieces. He flipped them
over, slid his hands down her small frame. Cupping each breast, he lapped at
her flesh, then slid his fingers along her sex. It was exactly as he remembered
and had spent months trying to forget.

She
sighed, spread her legs. He coaxed a lovely orgasm from her, teasing her G-spot
as he stretched her flesh, remembering Mindy’s advice.

Stop.
Gordon. This is a bad idea. Think with your upper brain for a change.

“Please,
Jack….” She exhaled as the climax left her shaking and still pulsing around his
fingers. He climbed up between her legs, covered her lips even as she told him,
“Fuck me.”

That
sometimes elusive upper brain closed down once more as he did as he was told,
twice, before they emerged, her blushing and a little angry for missing her
study group. Him packed and headed home to face the Gordon family crisis. He
held her at his truck, kissed her hard, not caring who saw them. Just as he was
about to ask her to accompany him home, to be with him, be his girlfriend, she
spoke.

“Last
time,” she said against his chest. “Okay? Because I still think we should not
be more than…friends…you know, who can, um, have sex and stuff. Without any
awkwardness.”

He
laughed so hard she stepped away, frowning at him. He finally collected himself
and yanked her close, taking in deep breaths of her, committing it to memory.
Relief along with a strange sense of emptiness made him feel hollowed out. He
put a hand to her face. “Good call, Peaches. Thanks for the mercy fuck.”

“Oh
that was no mercy fuck, Gordon. I wanted it. You wanted it. Now go home and
don’t call me, because if you do I’ll think you might be falling for me. And we
can’t have that, now can we? Oh, if you call me Peaches again I’m gonna pound
you.” She shot him a look he figured out later was one of remorse and walked
away without a backward glance.

He
watched her until her small frame was absorbed by a crowd of fellow students
headed to the library. Gulping back the strong urge to yell out, to beg her to
come with him, he climbed into his truck and turned the key. Something in him
knew she could handle Gordon Senior and the whole fucking mess better than he
could, knew she would be The One, if he let her be.

By
the time he got home, his grandmother was dead. He stuck around for the week.
Attended her funeral, the hollow feeling never leaving him, especially as he
gazed down at her still somehow stern and judgmental face.

He
was introduced to his father’s new wife, a brittle-looking chick who managed a
bank or something. Jack didn’t really absorb it. They endured an awkward dinner
together, Jack drinking glass after glass of wine until the room wobbled, and
he felt like he could handle it all. The next morning he kissed Mo goodbye and
drove back, eager to see Suzanne and sick over the fact that he wouldn’t.

When
he did lay eyes on her again, she was hanging off the arm of some tool he didn’t
know from a different fraternity. She smiled at him briefly. Then turned to
wrap herself around the other guy, bringing a sharp stab of fury to Jack’s
brain. One that he suppressed by giving Freitag the high sign that he’d found a
couple of girls willing to have a little private party with them. As he dove
between the legs of yet another nameless, faceless female, he realized it was
mainly so he could forget Suzanne and what she might have been for him.