What You Do to Me

“Chomper, sit,” I ordered, frowning as the puppy tilted her head sideways, staring at me with confused eyes. She knew what I wanted her to do, she was just playing dumb. Or she had the memory span of a goldfish. In which case, we would have a bit of problem.

It had been a week since Chomper had entered my life and she was easily my favorite family member besides Nana and soon to be Maggie (Holden was just not cute enough to compare) and she was a very fast learner, already coming when we called her name. She just also happened to be extremely stubborn. She seemed to have learned that from her dad, since Travis was also being incredibly hard headed when it came to doing things around the house. He insisted on repainting the stairwell, mowing the lawn, and hanging pictures all his own, not letting me do any of it. I appreciated the fact that he was there to help me finish moving in and settle, but I couldn’t help but resent his presence of a bit.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be a bitch, but it was my house. My first house, to be exact, and I wanted to be the one responsible for its upkeep. All I had done so far was take out the garbage. With the amount of work Travis put into the house as well, it could have very well been ours.

And I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that.

I sat on the couch Tuesday afternoon, trying to keep Chomper’s attention long enough to attempt to teach her a trick. She kept getting distracted however by her reflection in the sliding glass door and was determined to play with the mysterious dog she saw there, running back over and ignoring me completely. Nana was in the process of teaching Travis to sew, as she was completely unimpressed by his holey t-shirts he continued to wear (although most of the holes had been caused by Chomper’s teeth). She also insisted on patching his ripped jeans, which I was sure he had bought that way, with brightly colored fabrics. Travis went along with it though, always trying to contain his laughter whenever he tried on his jeans, now with the red and white polka-dotted knee patch.

I was happy. I was. I enjoyed Travis’ company – he was sweet, caring, funny, endlessly entertaining, and his chili burgers caused orgasms of the mouth. But I couldn’t help but feel something was off. Whatever it was though, I couldn’t place.

We hadn’t slept together yet, and as Chomper scratched helplessly at her reflection, I wondered if maybe if we slept together that incessant worry in my chest would cease. Then why wasn’t I pushing it? Well, I knew why...I just didn’t want to admit it. I was absolutely terrified that I would compare Travis to Alex. That was the last thing I wanted, as they were incomparable any way, but I was already thinking Travis’ kisses were less than perfect, that his body was too tall and lanky for mine to really fit into when we cuddled, that his long hair always fell in my face and made it difficult for me to sleep. I didn’t want to have sex with him and possibly add to the list. I didn’t want anything to ruin what I had with Travis, I just didn’t know what to do.

Maybe I just needed to really give myself to him, to really open up to him. Maybe I needed to tell him about Alex.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Maggie was of no help at this certain time. It seemed as if she and Holden hadn’t left the bedroom since they got engaged and every time I did get her on the phone, I could hear my brother in the background, doing something that made her giggle. I didn’t want to know, and I certainly didn’t want to discuss my sex life (or lack thereof) with him on the other end of the line.

I also didn’t want to complain. I mean, I had a guy who was clearly head over heels for me and for the first time in a while I was satisfied with life. Why should I dump my stupid insecurities on Maggie, my newly engaged and clearly busy-having-sexual-relations best friend, when really, there was nothing terribly wrong? I would just have to suck it up deal with it myself. I was a big girl, I could handle it.

“Chomper,” I called, distracting the puppy from her reflection. She was a brilliant little devil, but I that if she didn’t want to come, she wouldn’t. She turned and looked at me with her brown eyes, sparkling with mischief.

This time, however, Chomper decided to behave, and trotted back over to the couch, tripping over her massive feet on the way.

“Good girl,” I cooed, rubbing behind her ears. “Okay, let’s try this one more time. Sit.” She stood there staring up at me, tongue hanging out and tail wagging in happily, but she didn’t sit. “Sit,” I commanded again. Nothing.

Sighing, I picked her up off the ground and laid her on her back on my lap, rubbing her stomach affectionately. She flopped lifelessly in my arms, enjoying all her pampering.
I adored this dog, despite her stubbornness and very expensive taste when it came to chew toys. I had always wanted a puppy, but traveling always made that difficult. Now, however, I could go off on tour and leave Chomper in Nana’s care, giving them each a companion when the house was almost empty. It worked out to be a great situation, really.

“How’s our baby doing?”

I looked up to see Travis walk through the kitchen, Nana trailing along behind. I felt warmth flow through my body as I looked at him and realized in that moment that I was a little too sex depreived for my own good. He looked fantastic in those jeans, and when he reached over to set a box on the counter I caught a glimpse of his hip dips. Despite their paleness, I found myself desperate to run my fingers over them and explore the area they led to. Hot damn.

“She’s good, too hyper though, she can’t focus long enough to learn anything,” I replied, focusing back on the dog and trying to will my blush away.

“Well, she gets that from me,” he said, leaning over me and giving me a tender peck on the lips before turning to Chomper and grabbing her paws playfully.

“You kids better get going if you want to be able to eat before sunset,” Nana added, setting her sewing needles down on the island countertop before looking over at us. “You don’t want to get stuck in traffic, either.”

“Alright let me just grab my bag,” I said, standing and plopping Chomper on the floor. She looked up at me indignantly, before realizing just how delicious her own tail looked and preceding to chase it mercilessly. “That should keep her occupied for a while,” I said to Nana, slipping on my flip-flops and checking to make sure my purse was ready.

Travis had insisted on taking me out to dinner the last night he was staying. I think it was because he didn’t want to cook, but also because it would get us some alone time, away from Nana and the puppy. He has reserved a table at a popular ocean front restaurant on Anna Maria Island, about a forty minute drive from the house. I had yet to go to Anna Maria, and was really looking forward to it, especially after hearing all of Travis’ childhood memories from the area. I also knew he had begun writing a song about the island, to go along with This Is Our Town from his first album. It was a place that was important to him, and therefore, should be important to me.

We loaded into the car ten minutes later, waving goodbye to Nana and Chomper like we were going away on a long trip. The poor puppy had tried desperately to come with us, launching herself upward and trying to climb into the Jeep. Now, however, she whimpered helplessly in Nana’s arms, struggling to follow us. It broke my heart and Travis laughed at me as I whined, asking why we couldn’t bring her with.

“How are you going to go on tour if you can’t even be away from her for an afternoon?” he chuckled as we drove up the highway toward Bradenton.

“She’s my baby,” I pouted, but intertwined my fingers with his as he used his free hand to steer.

“Aren’t I your baby?” Travis asked, teasingly.

“Trav, no offense, but you aren’t nearly as cute as that puppy back home.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged as we pulled to up to a red traffic light. “But Chomper can’t do this.”

Travis leaned over and captured my lips with his, roughly begging for entrance with his tongue. Until this point, Travis had been nothing for chivalrous and gentle when it came to physicality, so his eagerness caught me slightly off guard. I did, however, enjoy it.

Our tongues wrestled for domination, his winning out eventually after his hand slid abruptly up the inside of my thigh and under my sundress, again taking me by surprise. He pulled away then, hovering over me slightly, our noses barely inches apart. I stared up at him, wondering where this new Travis was coming from. Where was the Travis that was content to cuddle all night, eating Mission to Marzipan and watching Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century? That Travis was no where to be found, instead replaced by a red head who had a lustful look in his eyes and clearly wanted nothing more than to rip my clothes off. And after that kiss, I , too, wanted nothing else.

“Wow,” I breathed, still staring up at him. Travis merely smirked down at me and moved back over to his seat.

“See, told you she can’t do that.”

“Well, she can, she just slobbers a lot more.”

Travis frowned mockingly and drove through the intersection. I giggled and undid my seatbelt, leaning over and kissing his earlobe.

“I’m just kidding, babe,” I grinned, pushing his hair away and kissing him a bit more down his neck. That quick make out session had seriously put me in the mood, and I was actually considering putting our dinner on hold for a roadside quickie.

Travis groaned and I tugged lightly on his earlobe with my teeth. “You better stop that or I’m going to run us off the road,” he grumbled.

I smirked and leaned back into my seat, buckling myself back in.

The rest of the drive out to Anna Maria was relatively silent; Travis and I merely glanced at each other every few minutes. The tension in the car was palpable.

Finally, Travis parked the car outside The Waterfront, a beach front restaurant with gorgeous views of the gulf and (from what Travis had told me) the best crab legs in Florida. And while crab did sound delicious, I wasn’t exactly hungry at the moment. Well, at least not for food.

Before Travis could open his door I pulled him back in for a kiss, trying to express all the pent up sexual frustration I had built up inside me. He clearly got the hint, moaning softly into my lips before fumbling around the center console for his cell phone. Without detaching his lips from mine he some how managed to place a call, and I giggled as I heard through the receiver a woman pick up on the other end.

“The Waterfront Restraunt, this is Becky. How may I help you?”

“Hi Becky,” Travis replied, pulling away from me for a fraction of a second. “This is Travis Clark, I need to cancel my reservation for tonight.”

“Of course, Mr. Clark, I have you - ” Travis hung up and immediately began attacking my neck with kisses.

“Is there somewhere we can go?” I asked breathily, “that isn’t the parking lot of a nice restaurant.”

Without a word, Travis put the car into reverse and tore out of the lot. Cleary, neither of us cared too much about our dinner plans.

We drove for about fifteen minutes down the island, away from the commercial and touristy areas and into a more residential part. The sun was already on it’s way below the horizon when Travis pulled up outside a quaint beach cottage, with sea green paneling and a dolphin mailbox.

“It’s my uncle’s beach place,” Travis said as we got out and headed toward the dark house.
Very few lights surrounded us – clearly these were homes whose rich owners had yet to return from their northern summer houses in Martha’s Vineyard or on the Main Line. “I think the spare key is...”

I watched impatiently as Travis dug underneath some decorative rocks, before finding a silver key. Letting us in, he flipped on the lights and locked the door behind him. The house was deceiving, from the outside it looked small, but the inside was spacious and impressive. Not to mention, sliding glass doors that took up an entire wall and led out directly onto the beach.

“This place is gorgeous,” I said, opening the door and stepping out onto the deck, letting the cool breeze tussle my hair slightly.

“My uncle is an architect and his boyfriend is an interior designer, so naturally the place would be awesome.”

I smiled as Travis came up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. “You’re different, tonight,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my neck.

“How so?” I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down closer to me. Sometimes, I really hated how tall he was.

“You seem more...”

“Horny?” I offered, laughing when his eyes widened slightly in shock. “What can I say? I haven’t gotten laid in a while. And you’re leaving so...”

“So we should make tonight last.”

I gasped slightly as his hands firmly grabbed my backside and hoisted me up to his waist. I wrapped my legs around him and immediately began kissing and sucking the skin around his Adam’s Apple.

“Bedroom?” he croaked, pulling my hips roughly into his.

“No,” I replied, suddenly determined to make this night as amazing as possible. “The beach.”