Being the son of a cop and, now, myself a cop, I obey the speed limit. Always have. Today, however, I violate it at least three times that I know of in my hurry to get Travis to school. Tommi’s worth a ticket. In fact, she’s worth several.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE- TOMMI
I feel like a prisoner who just got released on probation. When I got Lance’s call this morning, I knew how I’d spend my brief reprieve. There was no question.
I know it was supposed to be a one-time thing with Sig, but after last night…I knew I’d need more. Now I can have more, but without the risk.
Sig doesn’t say a word after Travis closes the door and stomps up the concrete steps to school. He simply shifts into drive and speeds back the way we came, making only two different turns. The two turns that take us to his house rather than mine.
From the moment he closes his front door behind us, we are enveloped in an urgency that belies the fact that we spent hours having sex last night. It’s like it never happened. We are as eager to touch and taste and feel as we were the very first time.
Sweaty and boneless, we take a break around lunch when Sig drives me to my house to take care of Momma. I go about everything with a happy tune playing in my mind and the knowledge that Sig is waiting for me in the living room. It’s odd that such a small thing would make such a difference, but it does. For the first time since I was sixteen, I feel like everything might just work out okay. Not because I have answers that I didn’t have yesterday or because my plan has changed. I think this just serves as a reminder of what I’m fighting for in the broader sense.
Sig takes me back to his house and strips me bare just inside the front door. With an eagerness that doesn’t seem to wane, he sheaths himself with a condom, presses me up against the cool wooden panel and entices moan after moan, scream after scream from my body.
When I’m limp in his arms, his body and the door the only things keeping me upright, Sig murmurs in my ear. “Think you’ve got another one for me before we go pick up Travis?”
Dear lord, this guy isn’t an animal; he’s a machine.
“As much as I’d love to, I really don’t think I can.” I feel sure that there is some sort of maximum climax that a human body can achieve in a twenty-four hour period, and I’m pretty sure that we’ve already met if not exceeded it.
“Never underestimate me,” he whispers, peeling my back off the door and carrying me like I’m made of glass. Down the short hall and into the bathroom, Sig deposits me on my feet to stand on the toilet seat lid. “I have other things to show you. Did I mention that?”
“No,” I admit, already feeling breathless with anticipation, like I haven’t had countless orgasms already.
Sig’s smile is devilish, pure and simple. “Then let me tell you a little story.”
And he does. Less than an hour later, when I’ve lost the feeling in my legs from the most mind-numbing orgasm I’ve ever experienced, I realize that Sig was right. I should never underestimate him.
********
Nothing about the day or the evening is routine. From spending the morning and afternoon locked away in Sig’s arms to picking up Travis from school and hearing the suggestion that the three of us should go out to eat and see a movie, everything is different.
I would’ve nipped it in the bud immediately had Travis not seemed to so enjoy playing football with Sig. I know he needs friends and a man around, but his Asperger’s makes it challenging to integrate new things, which normally upset his routine, which, in turn, upsets him. But after seeing the enthusiasm on his face (which is a big step for Travis who hides most every emotion behind the brim of his hat) and him asking with big, soulful eyes, “Can we go?” I thought maybe it’s time to stop guarding him so closely. He is growing up after all. And this normalcy is what I want for him more than anything. So I agree, knowing that it’s only a huge bonus that I get to spend more time with Sig.
“We can go.”
I see Travis tightly controlling a smile when he leans back against the cushion of the back seat.
And so goes the night. Sig drops us home, giving me a wink that says he knows I need time to take care of my mother. He promises that he’ll be back around five so we can eat before a seven o’clock movie.
Everything goes off without a hitch. Travis is so comfortable around Sig, it makes me second-guess holding him so close. I hope desperately that I haven’t hurt him by going too far in the other direction. But I can’t forget the months that he spent away from me and how far his health–mental, emotional and physical–declined.
Maybe it’s not too late, I tell myself as we’re leaving, Travis and Sig tossing a balled up wad of napkins from the theater back and forth, challenging each other over Harry Potter movie trivia.
“How do you know so much about Harry Potter? Aren’t you a little old to be watching shit like that?”
“There’s no such thing as too old for Harry Potter. And how dare you refer to HP movies as ‘shit like that’. I’ll kick your ass, lil man.”
“Bring it, Conan,” Travis replies in the way that boys do.
Sig puts his big hands on either side of Travis’s skull and pretends to squeeze hard. “I will crush you!” he says in a low, harsh voice that’s probably supposed to sound like a movie character. Something that goes far above my head. I’ve never had enough time or brain space for too many frivolous things like movies and normal girl stuff. But I’m glad that Travis has.
Rather than making me feel bitter or resentful, the thought brings me incredible peace, like maybe all that I’ve done has helped him. Somehow. Just a little. Because that’s all I’ve wanted–for him to grow up in as much of a normal way as possible.
Their banter continues all the way home. Sig catches my eye occasionally and gives me a wink or a warm smile that says, no matter what else is going on, he hasn’t forgotten what it feels like to kiss me. I get a little chill every time he does it.
Back at our house, when I would otherwise have said goodnight to Sig (at least until I could get away without notice), Travis begs him to stay and play some video games. Sig glances at me, as though asking if it’s okay. I nod imperceptibly.
“Only if you’re okay with losing,” he tells Travis.
“You wish, gangsta.”
I shake my head when they continue this all the way up the walk and through the house to Travis’s room.
I look in on Momma and get her ready for the night. Although it hasn’t been mentioned, I assume that I’ll sneak my way to Sig’s at some point and sneak back home in the morning. I won’t have to leave as early, though. Travis will sleep until at least noon.