Summer, My Crush, His Parents

Chapter 2 - Claire

Weight shifting on the mattress next to me tears me from sleep.

I struggle to open my eyes. The room is too bright. But after a few blinks, I find Claire sitting on the edge of the bed.

She watches with a warm gaze and a small smile. Her hand gently brushes my cheek.

"Morning, sweetheart," she says in a low voice. "How's the hangover?"

My head tilts into her touch before I even think about it.

"Not too bad," I croak.

I stretch, spreading my body as far as possible up and down over the covers. They feel so soft and cool against my skin.

That's when I realize that I'm completely naked. I must have been tipsier than I first thought last night. I never sleep in the nude.

I also don't tend to expose myself to my friends' mothers, but here we are. Still, I resist the instinct to cover up with my hands. I want her to see me.

"It's ten," she says after taking a good look. "Get dressed, I've made your breakfast."

She pats my shoulder and leaves the room.

A quick stop by the bathroom, and I walk into the kitchen. Claire is behind the counter, one hand pressing on the blender.

"There you are, sweetheart," she says once the whirring stops.

She leans over and tilts her head, holding her cheek out for me to kiss, which I do with a happy giggle.

"It's just us girls today," she continues, pouring green sludge into a tall glass. "Joel is away for business."

I sit on a stool around the counter, and she comes behind me, setting the glass down with a dull clink.

"Noah?" I ask.

"Lord knows where that boy is," she shrugs.

Lord, or rather, Sarah. I wince.

"Drink up, this'll help with the hangover."

I take a sip of the toxic-looking drink. It doesn't taste nearly as bad as it should. Lemoney. Claire takes a seat next to me and starts buttering a plate of toast.

"Did you have fun last night at least?" She asks.

"Yeah, I met a friend of Noah's. Emma."

I got her number too. But there's no point in telling Claire, no matter how strangely proud that makes me feel.

"I remember her. She's a sweet girl," she says. "Jam?"

I nod. "It must've been weird, working at the high school Noah went to. I can't imagine running into my mom on my way to class."

Claire chuckles. "I'm the vice-principal, it's not like I'm constantly roaming the hallways. I do admin work."

She lifts the spoon she used for the jam and brings it to my mouth, slipping it past my lips for me to clean. Sweetness, strawberry, and attention. I am melting.

"Gave me plenty of time to be around the house during breaks. Especially when Joel was still building up his business," she says, sliding the plate toward me.

I dig in. Joel tried to explain what his company actually does three different times before giving up.

Claire doesn't take her eyes off me as I eat my breakfast.

"Ready for your lesson?" she coos when I'm done clearing the table.

"Yeah! Let me get changed," I perk up excitedly.

"You can just undress, sweetheart. It's okay," her voice is calm, like she's telling me about the weather.

"I don't have my swimsuit on," I say.

"You don't need one for today's lesson," she purrs. "Besides, I remember someone trying to impress me by flashing strangers last night."

She leans on the counter, resting her chin in her hand. "It's just me and you today. No need to fuss around."

There she is. I bite my lip, shame from my pantyless antics being replaced by the anticipation of safe exhibition under Claire's blue gaze.

I swallow, and one by one, I pull items of clothing off, letting them flop on the floor. When my panties finally glide down my legs, I stand with my spine straight, hands behind my back. I hope she can see the shivers running up my skin.

Claire frowns. "Don't make a mess, fold your clothes."

I chuckle. We both know what she's doing, forcing me to bend over to pick them up. The air finds wet skin as I make no effort to keep my legs together.

Going around the counter, she grabs a spray bottle of sunscreen. She circles me, pinning me down in place through sheer excitement.

I hear a sniffing noise. "You didn't shower?"

"You told me to come down for breakfast," I sputter, the humiliation hitting just right.

"Well then, you can put on sunscreen on your own," her words would hurt if it weren't for the thrilled smile on her lips as she puts the bottle in my hand.

She leaves me there, naked, slippery, and apparently smelly. I hurry to spray myself down, trying not to linger on any sensitive bits. They're for Claire.

I rush to the pool, and here she is. Tan T-shirt tucked into high-waisted khaki shorts. A baseball cap and aviators on. I've never seen her wear that much clothing.

"In the water, sweetheart," she calls.

The morning sun is still more pleasant than harsh, and there's a chill wind sweeping through the giant garden. But, when I dive clumsily, without any of Claire's grace, the fresh water makes me want to never leave.

It's hard to explain just how I feel under the surface. Before this Summer break, I would have never dared to wear a bikini in public. Yet, here I am, naked, thriving under Noah's mother's eyes, reveling in the sensation of the water rushing between my legs with every kick.

This is insane and amazing.

"Having fun?" Claire asks when I finally go up for a breath.

I just beam at her.

"Alright, let's get to work, then," she says.

She keeps her word.

By the time I'm allowed to stop, I struggle to lift myself off the metallic ladder.

"Good girl," Claire says. "Come over here, I'll help you stretch."

"I just wanna lie down," I whine. Even the magic pet name isn't enough to give me a second wind.

"You'll thank me tomorrow when your muscles aren't all sore."

I pout, doing my best Puss in Boots teary pout.

Claire tries to ignore it. She really does. But her gaze roams down my dripping body, and she chews her lip.

"You're impossible," she relents, rolling her eyes. "Get on the chaise then. And try to behave."

I collapse onto the lounge chair under the shade of the umbrella. An exasperated French mom sits on the edge and produces yet another lotion bottle.

"You were in the water a while," she says when I raise an eyebrow.

She gives my thigh a slight squeeze. My bare thigh. Right down my pussy.

"Don't want my good girl to burn up."

She starts shaking the bottle.

"Smell this."

I lower my head to take a whiff from the open lid.

"Ooh," I hum. "Fancy."

"It is," she says, smug. "SPF50 body oil. I'll give you a quick massage since you've decided to be a lazy girl."

"Please do," I say. I'm convinced I drowned in the pool and flew straight to bratty heaven.

I stretch out on the chair, back arching, one leg bent just enough to tease. I'm trying to come off as relaxed, cool. I probably look ridiculous.

"I just don't see how this is a punishment."

"At least pretend," it's Claire's turn to pout. "Pour moi?"

She stays just on the safe side of sensual as she rubs the lotion into my skin. Lifts my feet, runs her fingers between my toes, over my soles. Works her way up my calves, my thighs. Never touches my pussy, just skimming around it like the responsible adult she is.

Even in the shade, the oil makes my whole body shimmer. It catches on curves I didn't know I had. There's the barest hint of abs where I thought was a soft belly.

"I think I can get sunburnt there," I whine, slowly waving my chest when she skips it.

Claire's answer is to bend over and suck my left nipple between her lips.

Barely believing what's happening, I watch as she sucks more of me in her mouth, distorting the cone of my breast. She has to shift her weight onto her hands, resting on my shoulders, pinning me to the chair.

I take the opportunity to slide her cap off, bury my nose in her freed locks, and kiss her scalp.

Too soon, she sits back up, but keeps one hand on my chest, holding me down.

"Didn't want to taste the oil," she whispers with a crooked smile. "I wanted to taste you."

"So?" I say, fishing for praise.

"Turns out you're covered in chlorine," she grins.

I groan and cover my face with both hands, which gives her the perfect opening to rub oil into my armpits, forcing a giggle out of me.

My arms and hands receive the same treatment as my legs and feet. She rolls my palms between hers, just hard enough, her thumbs pressing into the center. She circles each finger, one by one.

The loving look on Claire's face as she focuses on my body makes me squirm. Her blue eyes sparkle, her messy brown hair falls softly around her delicate face. I know exactly how soft and warm her heart-shaped mouth is. How is it possible she even noticed me?

"You're so beautiful," I whisper.

"Someone's trying to bribe me," she says, but still presses her lips to my knuckles.

"Is it working?" I squeak.

"Such a single-minded, horny girl," she glides down the chair, keeping constant contact.

My legs spring open to give her as much space as possible when she settles between them.

"You need me to tell you what you want," she says, caressing my thighs.

"Lick my pussy," I've learned my lesson, no point beating around the bush.

With one hand on each of my knees, Claire lowers her head. I feel her hair brush my stomach, obscuring my view as her lips reach for my clit.

I bite my fist to keep myself from howling. All of the tension that has pooled within my belly for the past week flows straight into her mouth.

Her lips are not as precise as her fingers, yet the way her tongue clumsily explores my folds might very well be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Claire, the stylish French woman straight out of a fashion brochure, is lapping at my sopping pussy. Mine.

I want to reach out, press her head deeper, but I'm afraid that I'll disturb the magic of the moment. She grabs my legs and pulls them over her shoulders. I rub my heels across her back, desperate to connect as much as possible.

My eyes close, and images flash. Noah, in his tight trunks, pinning me down. Water running down Joel's graying chest. Emma, bracing herself to ask for my number.

But at the end, it's Claire's bright smile that pushes me over the edge without ever having to use her hands.

I buck against her mouth, catching the slightest hint of her sharp teeth. She crawls up my body, kissing along the way, before our lips meet.

She shares my taste with me. The thought makes me moan in her mouth. Greedy hands roam between us.

With a sharp tug, I extract the hem of her T-shirt from her shorts. It is thoughtlessly tossed away, quickly followed by a plain black bra.

I break our kiss, only to seek her breasts. Even hanging above me, they manage to keep some of their generous roundness, putting my ugly chest to shame. They're heavy in my hand, and the stiff nipples come to life between my lips.

Pride swells within me when Claire rewards me with a moan.

"That's enough," she calls sharply as my hand glides down her belly.

"Come on," I tease, flashing a playful grin. "I wanna make you feel good too."

"Harper," she says, serious, batting my hand away.

It feels like a cold shower. I guiltily tear myself from her and wriggle against the back of the chair.

"Sorry," I say. "I just thought..."

I'm not even sure what to say. Does she not want me in that way too?

She must catch the disarray on my face because she laces her finger under my chin, tilting my head up. Her thumb wipes the wet corner of my eye.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmurs. "Don't take it like that."

Claire waits, making sure that I'm meeting her gaze. "It's fine for us to play a little, but I'm twice your age. We shouldn't make it more than it is."

I nod stiffly, more hurt than I want her to see. She winces, and leans in for a soft kiss. Her lips are so warm.

"Let's just keep things fun," she says, stroking my hair. "I don't want to put you in a weird situation."

"Because my best friend's mother eating me out is totally normal," I let out in a bitter sneer. "And maybe I'd like to be in a weird situation for once."

I press my hand back to her bare stomach. Her eyes widen, and she takes a sharp breath between her teeth.

"Harper," she whispers, her blue eyes on me as I slide under her shorts.

I silence her with my lips. She plants her hand on either side of my head, hovering over my body as I find the hem of her panties.

Claire's skin is soft, hot, and wet under the fabric. The moan she lets out as her clit rolls under my touch feels like a victory.

"Harper," she hisses when we separate for a breath. Yet this does nothing to stop her flesh from coming alive against my fingertip.

It's almost overwhelming. I feel out of practice. I've never had much privacy to touch myself, and Claire provides a lot of distractions. Her beautiful eyes, her breasts heaving above me, her smell all around me, and the way her voice reacts to my every touch.

But I focus and curl my fingers inside her, and she clenches around me while my thumb circles her clit. I can feel her body tense over mine.

And despite my clumsiness, it doesn't take long to make her spring. She gently bites my shoulder and collapses on top of me, her bare chest sprawling over mine.

"Oh no, Harper," I say in a sugary, mocking voice, slipping my soaked hand out from between her legs once she stops writhing. "You can't possibly touch me. That would be so inappropriate."

"Shut up," she chuckles and presses a kiss to my forehead. "You're making me go crazy."

Pride swells within me at her admission of defeat. I've done it. I've seduced the half-naked water goddess still catching her breath on top of me.

"Stop gloating," she chides playfully.

She grabs my hand and brings it to my face without much force. The tangy, musky smell reaches me when she presses my own slicked finger to my lips. Just like that, I'm back under her spell.

"Now clean up," she says, with one last push. "Like a good girl."

===

I lean out the window to push the shutters away, let some air in for the night. It still feels surreal looking down at the carefully manicured garden below. That's when I spot him, Noah, lying bare-chested in the middle of the lawn, arms crossed under his head.

Thirty seconds later, I'm padding barefoot down the deck's stairs. I'm not used to the feel of the grass blades under my soles. They make me cringe and skip gingerly. Crickets are chirping, and bats whizz overhead.

"Didn't hear you coming home," I call when I get closer.

He startles, head whipping toward me.

"Hey, Harp'," he says, settling back down.

"Whatcha doing?" I ask, standing over him.

"Chilling," Noah answers with a smile. He pulls a hand from under his head and pats the ground next to him.

I shrug and carefully lower myself to the gently sloping lawn.

Lying down, the rest of the world is obscured by the tree on the edge of the garden, and all we can see is the stretch of open sky above us. I grew up in the city. Being able to catch so many stars is always a bit of a wonder.

"This was my favorite spot growing up," Noah says, unprompted. "Mom had to drag me to bed some nights."

I feel a guilty pinch in my chest at Claire's mention. It's so hard imagining her wrangling a younger Noah around.

"Is there anything special about it?" I ask, circumspect.

He chuckles.

"There's a bump in the dirt, fits right against my back," he says, then wriggles away from me, freeing a patch of his 'magic' spot. "Here, try it out."

I slide closer. There's barely an inch between us now.

"So?" he prompts, like he really needs to know.

I glance at him. Then I reach over, grab his arm, and pull it from under his head. I fold it out and lower myself onto it. My cheek rests in the crook of his elbow. I don't know about the bump in the lawn, but this feels right.

"Yeah," I say softly. "It's pretty good."

It's almost better than wrapping myself around him. Almost. He giggles, but doesn't move away.

"Is it lame to admit that I missed home the entire school year?" He asks after a while. I'm not even sure he's talking to me.

"If I had a house like this one, I'd miss it, too," I snort. "You're definitely lame. But not for that."

He shakes his head and bends his elbow, landing a soft thwap against my scalp. I pretend to yelp.

"Are you sure it's okay that you're not going back to see your parents all Summer?" He continues.

"They do have AC," I chide, trying to switch topics. "This is the best vacation ever."

I almost want to tell him about my sexual awakening. With his mother. Fuck.

"Just..." I start, then stall. I press my cheek deeper into his arm. "I wish we were spending more time together."

"I know. I'm sorry. But with Sarah..."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

My silent mantra works. He doesn't finish his sentence.

We stare at the sky and fall back into our usual constant chatter. I don't even remember how I got back to my bed that night.

===

My phone vibrates on the coffee table.

Noah, sitting next to me on the couch, reacts before I can. He wedges the Sony Ericsson between his toes, contorts his bare leg to bring it over my lap, and then drops it.

"Gross," I snicker. "Now it'll smell like your nasty feet."

Noah doesn't need more provocation. In an instant, I have his sole rubbing all over my face. I laugh and try to escape, but he has a serious reach advantage, and I can't be bothered to get off the couch.

"Noah!" I squeal, laughing as I squirm away. "I yield, your feet smell like roses!"

"That's better," he says, smug as hell.

I shake my head and slide the phone open, and find a text message.

Unknown: hi its emma

The wave of satisfaction I get from it is unexpected. I can feel myself biting on my lip as I add her to my contacts.

Harper: wassup

"Who is it?" Noah asks.

"Emma," I answer, blushing despite myself.

Of course, he catches it.

"Ooooh," he grins. "Does Harper have a girlfriend?"

Emma: not much, u?

"Shut up," I groan. Does he think I'm a lesbian? Oh God.

I navigate the menu to the camera and hold out my hand.

"Say cheese."

Noah poses instinctively, flashing a goofy peace sign.

We're both on the couch, still wearing our swimsuits, dried in the sun following our afternoon swim. Even in the darker house and with the crappy quality of my phone's camera, we look sticky and chlorine-bleached. It's cute, almost too cute. Like something an aunt would have in her family album.

Still, it's a lot of skin on display. I hesitate a moment before attaching the picture as an MMS.

Harper: hangin out its noahs moms bday

Only then do I catch Noah, peeking over my shoulder at the screen. Before he can tease me, Joel barges into the room.

At this point, I'm convinced that his natural state is shirtless and slightly sweaty.

"Hey," he barks. "Can you two lazybones give me a hand?"

"What do you need?" I perk up, happy to help. Noah groans.

"One of you's hitting the store." He waves a long grocery list. "I need some stuff for dinner prep."

"That's easy," Noah grins. "I'm the one with a license."

I open my mouth to protest, panic rising at the thought of being alone with Joel, but he cuts in before I can.

"I've got a quick project I want to finish before Claire gets back from the spa. Something out in the garden. Could use a hand."

He nods toward me, then eyes my bikini.

"Put on some real clothes," he says, already turning for the back door. "I'll be outside."

I look at Noah, trying to get some reassurance. He shrugs his shoulders as we climb the stairs to get changed.

Three minutes later, I'm stepping onto the pool deck in a fresh T-shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and a wide straw hat I stole from Claire's hook by the door. It's too big for me but smells like her.