I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Porter push arroz con pollo around on his plate.
“Not hungry?” I asked, gently, removing his plate and wrapping it with plastic wrap to place in the fridge. The situation with Todd had him worried; he was never one without an appetite. His glass of water was untouched, and his eyes were blank and empty.
“No,” he said, squeaking out the word in a gravelly voice.
Finally, after several minutes of silence, he continued. “It looked great, Ari. But... I can’t eat.”
“Do you want something stronger than water? I mean, I hate to ask but...” My voice trailed off. That was probably a dumb thing to ask. Given the circumstances.
Porter sat up straight, his hands folded in his lap. “Can I get some black coffee? That’s about as strong as I can handle right now.”
I nodded, quickly placing a single serve pod of coffee in the machine, which brewed within minutes. Porter stared down at the inky cup of espresso in front of him. I watched as his lips blew and he gingerly took the hot cup to his lips. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the hot elixir soothe him.
Finally able to move my feet, I sat next to him, rubbing his shoulder. “Better?”
He rolled his neck, leaning into the feel of my hands. “Yeah. Thanks. And thanks for coming today. It’s crazy. You’re the first person I called. I couldn’t have faced that without you.”
I felt my heart crack open. “I was just out with Bella, at the cosmetics store. You don’t have to thank me, Porter. I’m your friend.”
Porter turned and looked at me. “We’re more than friends, Ari. We’re...just more than that. You know that.”
My lips tightened. “I know. Partners-in-design, too.” I playfully punched his arm. Trying to defuse tense situations with humor was not my strongest attribute.
Porter didn’t smile. He reached up and twirled my hair between his fingers. “I love your hair like this.”
I frowned with a raised brow. “Messy? Kinky?”
Porter shook his head, his bottom lip edged between his teeth. “No. Just free. It reminds me of...” His voice trailed off. “The last time we...”
“Oh.” I felt my chest and neck burn with the thought of us together. The closer his hands moved, his fingers inches from my cheek, the more I could feel my pussy tighten from the memory.
I coughed, moving my head slowly, trying not to think of my body’s reactions.
Porter let the curl unravel out of his fingers. “I’m a terrible brother. A terrible son. My dad would be so pissed. I’m my brother’s keeper, he would say. I should have been there for Todd. The signs were there, but I made excuses. I thought, hey, he works a lot. Or you know, he needs a break. He’s just unwinding. No, Todd is an alcoholic. We should have intervened years ago. Like, right after my dad died. He was sixteen years old, drinking Johnny Walker Black from my granddaddy’s study like it was nothing.”
I put my hand on Porter’s thigh, muscular and firm even in well-worn sweats. “You can’t torture yourself. Sometimes, things like this are hard to pinpoint.”
Porter put his face in his hands. I could see tears drop through his fingers and onto the kitchen island. When he lifted his head, Porter’s nose was red, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“I should have been there today. He could have died. All because I was just too annoyed to leave my house. Ari, my brother could have died.”
“But thank God he did not. He’s bruised but not broken.”
“Thank God indeed.”
I bit my lip and tapped my fingers on the kitchen island. Porter grabbed my hand. “What’s wrong?”
I felt a crushing agony in my chest. “I’m just...sad for you. Anxious for you. And I can’t do anything to help you feel better.”
Porter moved his hand up my arm, his index finger leading the way. Goose bumps appeared wherever he touched. He moved in closer, putting his lips on my neck. I leaned into it, allowing myself the pleasure of feeling the warmth of his lips and wetness of his tongue as it glided up and down my neck. His lips reached my earlobes, his tongue circling the skin near my earring. If this was what he needed, I’d give it to him. Maybe this was what I needed too.
“Who says you aren’t making me feel better?” he said in a husky whisper.
I sighed, enjoying the familiarity of his lips against my skin. “Your mom wanted me to look after you. You didn’t even eat.”
“I don’t need to eat. I’m with you. I’m fine.” Porter’s kisses traced along my jawline, then across the bridge of my nose. “I love your nose.”
“My nose?” I repeated, puzzled at his random thought. I never really found my wide, upturned nose interesting.
“Yep. It just fits your face. Plus, the freckles. Very fucking cute.”
I giggled like a teenager. “Cute? Oh, really? Freckles are a turn-on now.”
“Hmm. Really,” said Porter as he kissed the tip of my nose. “Everything about you turns me on. You know this.”
I felt my breathing become uneasy. Porter took my hand, leading me toward my bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited with anticipation. If the reason he couldn’t eat was because he had an appetite for sex, I was all for being on the menu. I felt an electric throbbing in my abdomen that seemed to travel to the tips of my toes.
Porter pulled his shirt over his head. I watched, my eyes roaming all over his body. Every sinewy muscle in his abdomen flexed with fluidity. It’s not like I hadn’t seen Porter naked a ton of times. But it seemed like he enjoyed getting naked for me. Enjoyed the buildup. It was like opening a present on my birthday every time.
Porter slowly pulled down his sweats, revealing royal blue Calvin Klein boxers. I thought about Marky Mark and the classic Calvin ads. Porter could have given him a run for his money. He sat on the bench on the end of my bed and took off his socks. He then stood in front of me, in just his boxers. And with an erection that was hard to miss. No pun intended.
We hadn’t had sex in a couple of weeks, and I needed it. Wanted it. Missed it. I moved to take off my own pants and Porter bent down, putting his hands on my thighs.
“Ari, stop. Just wait...”
I froze. “What? What is it?”
“I don’t want to have sex tonight.”
I ignored my clitoris beatboxing all over the place, like Doug E. Fresh, choosing to think like a rational adult. As much as I wanted to sex this man like crazy, given the circumstances, maybe now wasn’t the time.
“It’s totally fine. We don’t have to.”
Porter groaned. “Trust me, I want to. I just... I don’t want you to think all we do is... Or all I want is... I’m not trying to violate your boundaries.”
I laughed. “Porter, you’ve never violated my boundaries. I’m not worried about that.”