Can't Get Enough: Erotica for Women by Brown Tenille

Author:Brown, Tenille [Brown, Tenille]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, pdf
ISBN: 9781627780513
Publisher: Cleis Press Start
Published: 2014-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

THE END OF SENSIBLE

Louise Blaydon

Tom was late.

A month ago—hell, two weeks ago—Jack probably wouldn’t have worried about it the way he was worrying now. Now, though, the first thing that came to Jack’s mind was the thought that Tom just didn’t want to come after all, knowing what Jack was probably expecting. Maybe Tom was starting to regret this whole bloody thing. Maybe Tom had noticed that Jack was having trouble paying much attention to any lasses who weren’t Tom, and maybe he was more concerned than Jack was about the fact that Tom had swiftly become his best girl.

It wouldn’t be surprising, really. Tom always was the sensible one.

The doorbell buzzed. Tom was smiling, and Jack’s first shameful urge was to smack him for making him worry, but then Tom really would be angry with him, and that was the last thing Jack wanted. So he swallowed the urge, though his “Took your time, didn’t you?” didn’t escape without a touch of cattiness.

Tom didn’t seem to mind. Jack couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed—the thing about Tom was, he always paid careful notice to most everything Jack did—but he only rolled his eyes and said, “Didn’t set a time, did we? Anyway”—he started to push past Jack into the vestibule, and Jack took a step back, letting him—“I didn’t really want to turn up when your mum was still here, with these.” He held up one hand, from which a canvas bag dangled. Jack swallowed.

“I, uh,” he said. His heart was thumping, but after his little scare he felt the need for caution, just in case. “That for writing? Or playing? New capos?” The band was the thing, after all. It was 1963, and every poor bastard in the north was trying to catch up to the Mersey Beat.

“Jack.” Tom tipped his head to one side and smirked, and Jack felt his pulse level out again, relief spreading through him like oxygen. “Let’s go up to your room.”

At the top of the stairs, Tom disappeared into the bathroom without a word, and Jack went quiescently into his bedroom to wait. Probably it was stupid, this—waiting for Tom to come out of the bathroom in his (god) girl’s clothes, just so that Jack could (oh god) take them off him again, but that was the point, wasn’t it? Maybe Tom shouldn’t be the prettiest girl Jack had ever seen, but there it was.

“You’re miles away,” Tom said. Jack blinked, eyes going immediately to the door, and Tom smiled at him. “What were you thinkin’ about?”

He was wearing the skirt he’d worn the first time they did this, with stockings underneath. His big soft eyes were kohl-lined, something shimmery smeared on the lids, and his mouth looked pinker than usual. His T-shirt, though, was just a black T-shirt, and while Jack knew that girls did go around in T-shirts, the fact of the matter was that this was the T-shirt Tom had arrived in—maybe the T-shirt he’d been wearing all day, so the fabric would smell like him.

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