In the Middle of Somewhere (7 page)

“Oh god.”

“Is this okay?” he asks. I nod enthusiastically, my head falling back against the tree.

“Tell me,” he whispers.

“Fuck, it’s good,” I say, my eyes clenched tight.

“The night I met you,” Rex says against my mouth, “all I could think about was getting inside you.” He strokes inside of me with his thick finger, thrusting against me as he speaks. His voice is low, smoke curling around me. “Your mouth.” He kisses me. “Your gorgeous ass.” He flexes his wrist and fucks me with his finger. My arms fall against his shoulders, curl around his neck. I clench around his finger and he growls, rutting harder against me.

“But—” I gasp. “But you didn’t want me.”

“Nng,” Rex groans, looking into my eyes. “I was trying to be a fucking gentleman.”

“No,” I huff, “now you’re a fucking gentleman.”

He shakes his head and drops his forehead to mine. “You,” he says darkly, “talk when you’re nervous.”

“No,” I gasp, and it’s true; I usually don’t. Rex quirks an eyebrow. “Only with you,” I say. His smile is slow and predatory.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, amused. Yeah, right, thanks. I only thought I was attacked by some murderer, like, ten minutes ago. I don’t even let myself think about why I’m nervous about how it feels to have him against me, inside me.

“It’s just—you know, the woods, and—there’s—did you know statistically the greatest percentage of serial killers come from the Midwest?”

I can
not
believe I just said that. There’s babbling because you’re turned on and then there’s sounding like a total psycho.

Rex is giving me a strange look.

“So, you’re nervous that I might be a serial killer?”

I shake my head miserably. “No, no, I was just saying. Sorry. Ignore me.”

Rex’s expression softens and he runs the back of his free hand over my jaw.

“I don’t want to ignore you,” he says. “I just want you to be here. Are you here?” He strokes inside me again and my breathing goes all funny.

“I’m here,” I say.

“Just relax, okay?”

“Easier said than—” He kisses me hard. His tongue stroking over mine shoots sparks of pleasure to my stomach and my cock. My thighs tremble and I unclench. He kisses like he talks—confidently, with authority, but so receptive to my every response. I moan into his mouth and he slips another finger inside me. When I cry out he presses even closer, his chest and shoulders dwarfing mine.

“You feel fucking amazing,” Rex says. “You’re pulling me inside.” Fuck. The things he says. Usually I hate when guys talk during sex. It always sounds ridiculous, like bad porn. Besides, I’m used to sucking off guys behind the tires at my dad’s shop or fucking them in bathrooms at concerts, not much time for conversation. But everything out of Rex’s mouth turns me on even more.

The tree against my back and Rex’s fingers inside me are the only things I can feel. Until Rex takes hold of both our cocks in his big hand and begins to stroke us together.

“Oh!” I cry, and Rex moans low. My head spins as jolts of pleasure shoot through my cock. I slide my hands under Rex’s shirt, dig into the thick muscles there. I can imagine what his body would feel like crushing me into the mattress, and I’m not sure where that thought came from because it’s not something I’ve ever particularly wanted before.

Rex strokes us faster, our erections now slippery with fluid, and I brace myself on his shoulders so I don’t slide down the tree—and because I don’t want to give up the shivery full feeling of his fingers inside me.

Everything feels liquid, and Rex’s breath is coming in pants now. He bites his lip and his rhythm stutters.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” he says and I can only whimper in response and nod. He takes a shaky breath and his hand slows slightly. When he kisses me, it’s softer and his mouth tastes sweeter. I can feel him trembling with the effort to hold back his orgasm.

He slides his fingers even deeper inside me and I feel wracked against the tree, on his hand, by his mouth and his chest and fucking voice and, god, his smell. I’m barely aware of what I’m doing, just anything to get more. More contact, more tongue, just more. Hands on his shoulders, I grind down on his fingers and cry out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck,” he says, but it’s like his voice is coming from a great distance, far away from the feeling of his fingers zinging pleasure through my channel and his big hand stroking us together faster now. I should be embarrassed of the broken sounds I’m making, but I can’t seem to care.

Rex flexes his fingers inside me at the same time as his stroke catches the head of my cock just right and I’m spiraling into orgasm, clutching at his shoulders, his neck, anything to keep me from losing contact with his body. Warmth tingles at the base of my spine and in my balls and then it’s just white-hot pleasure shooting through me.

“Oh, oh,” I cry out. Heat pours out of me, making everything slippery. I gasp for breath and my hole spasms around Rex’s fingers as my muscles contract, pulling a final hot spurt from me and leaving me shuddering against Rex, his fingers still inside me.

“Holy shit,” Rex says. He strokes us twice more, my cock so sensitive it’s almost painful, and then he’s coming too, striping my chest and stomach with powerful spurts as he crushes me against the tree.

We’re both breathing heavily. Rex puts his mouth back on mine and kisses me softly as he slowly slides his fingers from me. I groan, shuddering against him, and I can’t help but clench up. Hands now free, he hefts me a bit higher, holding me against him.

He keeps kissing me, and then, like he can’t help himself, he dips a fingertip back inside me.

“Rex!” I mumble, and wrap my arms around his neck. We kiss softly, our mouths moving together, warm and liquid. As he slides his finger inside me, my cock gives one last shivery jolt against Rex’s stomach and I hiss. My head falls back against the tree and I take a deep breath. My head is spinning. Rex nuzzles into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder and I can feel his moist breath on my skin. He slips his finger free and gently lowers me to the ground.

My legs are shaking and my ass is a little tender. He must see it on my face because he pulls me against him, one arm around my waist, the other braced against the tree as he catches his breath.

His body engulfs mine so that all I can feel is his heat and all I can smell is his scent: fabric softener and pine and light, clean sweat. I can’t actually remember the last time I was held like this; maybe I never have been. I hug Ginger, but she’s small and it doesn’t feel anything like this. Other than that…. No one. I feel like I could melt right into Rex, and I want to stay like this as long as I can.

It freaks me out—how much I want this.

“I, uh,” Rex says, and with my ear pressed to his chest his low voice rumbles through me. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” The feeling of comfort drains out of me, leaving me exhausted just thinking about waking up that morning, hopeful and unsure, and finding him gone, without even a note to say good-bye.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” I say, and I can hear the resentment in my voice. Rex shifts backward so he can see my face. I make sure my expression is neutral.

“Not true. I just wanted to get Marilyn to the vet. And, like I said, it seemed pretty clear you’d take any job over one here. I didn’t think our little town made a real good impression.”

“I dunno. You were a pretty good welcome wagon,” I say. “Even if you didn’t say good-bye.”

“Hmph,” he says. His expression has shuttered. It makes him look sterner, older. “Well, you’re here now. I suppose you’ll be using this job as—what’d you call it? As a springboard?”

“Maybe,” I say. I’m amazed that he remembers our conversation so well. He even remembers the word I used. “I’ll have to see. I’m here for this year at least. Um….” I make a vague motion toward my pants, which are bunched at the bottom of the tree.

Rex lets me go and I try to go about putting my twisted underwear and pants back on with some semblance of dignity. Not that there’s much room for dignity when you’ve just been wrung dry against a tree in the middle of the night.

“Suppose you walked?” Rex asks. I nod.

“Hey, you’re not from here, are you?” I ask.

“Nope. Texas, originally,” Rex says, doing a much better job of putting himself back together with dignity than I’ve done. “But I lived all over. Why?”

“Your accent. You don’t have that nasal Michigan thing. And you say
suppose
.”

“What’s wrong with suppose?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. Just, usually people who say suppose are either, like, being formal or they’re from the South. So I just wondered. Texas, huh? So, are you into that whole cowboy thing?” I’m babbling again, but there is just something about Rex on a horse—or a bull, or whatever the hell they have in Texas—that’s incredibly hot. Rex with a whip.

“For a professor, you’re kind of into stereotypes, aren’t you?” Rex says, but he doesn’t seem offended. “Serial killers are from the Midwest; everyone in Texas is a cowboy.”

I groan. “You remember that, huh?” I was desperately hoping that, what with the orgasms and all, maybe he wouldn’t have registered that part of our exchange.

“It only happened a few minutes ago, Daniel,” he says, and he chucks me under the chin.

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t actually think those things. I just—”

He pulls me into his chest and tips my chin up. He kisses me lightly and smiles, then strokes my stomach. I look down and see his come has dried in white streaks on my black T-shirt.

“That’s pretty grim,” he says.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m doing laundry tomorrow.” Rex’s eyes darken and that predatory expression is back.

“I’m not sorry about that,” he says. “I mean your shirt. You sure know how to put a guy in his place.”

“Oh,” I say, looking down again. I forgot that my shirt says
No One Will Ever Love You
. “It’s a Magnetic Fields song,” I say, and I turn around to show him the back:
69 Love Songs
.

“Mmhmm.” He pats my ass. “That’s a band, I suppose?” he says with a playfully exaggerated drawl.

I once again slide my copy of
The Secret History
into my back pocket and feel for my iPod in the left.

I’d almost forgotten she was here, but Marilyn lets out one bark and stands up.

“Yeah, girl, time to go,” Rex says, and pats her head.

I stick my fists in my pockets, trying to figure out how I can make sure I see him again.

“Hey, where am I?” I ask Rex. “I walked from that way, I think.”

“You living in town?”

“Yeah. Above the hardware store.”

“Carl’s place?”

“Whoa, small town,” I say. I’m joking, but he doesn’t smile.

“If you follow the road for about a mile, you’ll hit town,” he says. “On your left.”

“I walked for a lot more than a mile, I’m pretty sure,” I say.

“Yeah, you likely looped around. This road has a horseshoe curve that you can avoid. Just stay left. I can drive you if you want. I mean, I need to go back home and get my truck, but—”

“Nah, I’m cool,” I say. “It’s a nice night.” I need to clear my head.

“Sure,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll see you, Daniel.”

Wait, that’s it? He still doesn’t want my number, or…?

“Um, yeah, I’ll see you,” I say. “Maybe… in town?”

“Very likely,” he says.

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll just….” I gesture down the road. “Bye, Marilyn. I’m really glad you’re all right.” I pet between her ears and she puts out a paw.

“She wants you to shake,” Rex says.

“Oh, right.” I take her large paw in my hand and shake it. “Um. Good night.” I turn away slowly, my face burning. He doesn’t have any interest in making plans, clearly.

“Daniel.” Rex’s hand on my shoulder spins me around. He leans down and kisses me, short and hard. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ll see you.” This time it sounds reassuring. He doesn’t just think I’m a quick fuck against a tree.

Better.

Then he walks away, Marilyn trotting at his side.

September

“B
ECAUSE
RESTATING
the prompt isn’t a thesis, Malcolm. A thesis needs to make a claim. It tells the reader what you’ll spend the rest of the paper demonstrating. Remember?”

Stab
,
throttle
,
smash
,
annihilate
,
disembowel
. I try to calm myself down by listing words that describe what I’d like to do to Malcolm. Preppy, entitled, slickly handsome Malcolm.
Raze
,
liquefy
,
obliterate
,
eviscerate
,
pulverize
,
gut
. Malcolm is the sixth student to come to my Friday afternoon office hours to argue about his grade on the first short paper for my Intro to American Literature class. All six complaining students missed class the day I assigned the papers and explained very clearly what a thesis was. All six complaining students turned in papers with no thesis statements.