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A Graceful Mess Page 8
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“Did you get my note?”
She suddenly looks wary, as she nods her head up and down.
“Do you remember what it said?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me,” I instruct her as my eyes stay glued to the road.
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Okay,” she mumbles. “It said something like you had a nice time and be careful…”
“It said ‘don’t be so trusting,’ and what are you doing? What if I was some psycho?” Her innocence and trust enliven me. I barely know her, and, well, she barely knows me, and here she is riding home with me.
“Parker, I don’t think you’d hurt me.”
How did I get in this mess? We never should have fucked. Bottom line. Now I am attracted to her and I know she is off limits, but I can’t help but feel drawn to her. It’s more than her beauty. I can’t put my finger on it, but my body craves her touch. Fighting this urge to be near her is like fighting a losing battle. One which I don’t mind losing.
Through clenched teeth I say, “We’re almost there.” Making sure to keep my eyes fixated on the road is tough enough without having Grace’s sweet body sitting so close to me.
We ride in a comfortable silence for a few miles, until the sky darkens and tiny droplets of rain hit the windshield. I look over at Grace who is gazing out the window in her own little world. I wonder what she is thinking about. Is it lame to hope she is thinking about me? Was the sex that good that she has turned my world upside down? I’ve had kinkier. I’ve done some crazy shit in the bedroom, but the night we shared was so much different. In a good way; in a way that makes me want to be around her constantly, and not while I am on duty. The rain falls harder on the windshield making it hard to see the yellow and white lines painted on the asphalt. I squint my eyes to see the road.
“This is my road.” My hands grip the steering wheel as we turn left onto Cave Court Road and onto my secluded driveway. It is long and narrow and close to a mile from the road. The gravel under the tires makes the truck shake from the unevenness of the path. Grace giggles as her body sways from side to side to keep up with the truck’s movement. Moving here from Alabama was quite a culture shock for me. It was country in Tuscaloosa, but nothing like it is here. There are miles and miles of farmland as far as your eyes can see. Sometimes I’ll put on my sneakers and run. The gym is my safe haven, the one place I can relax and block out the noise from the world, but running in the mornings, when everyone else is still asleep, tucked into their cozy beds, gives me the same freeing feeling. The cold morning air hitting my face and the dew on the ground makes me feel alive. My mind wanders, and for the past few weeks it has been thinking about the blonde girl sitting next to me.
“Here we are.” I remove the keys from the ignition, but stay seated in the driver’s seat. The only sounds are that of the beating of the rain against the windows. The weather wasn’t supposed to be bad, but I guess it took a turn for the worse. Her eyes don’t stray from their spot staring out the window, and she is holding her arms tightly across her chest.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I, umm…I just don’t like storms, that’s all.” She turns her head and gives me a wary smile. I can tell she is trying to hold herself together. I mean, who honestly likes thunderstorms? Not me, that’s for sure, but looking into her blue eyes so full of fear makes me want to do everything in my power to keep her safe from everything she is scared of.
“Parker, I’m fine. Thunderstorms just make me a little jumpy for some reason,” she takes a deep breath, “but I feel safe with you.”
I have never been so attracted to someone in my life. If her blonde hair, sexy as hell body, and beautiful blue eyes don’t draw you in, her heart will. She amazes me, and I know without the shadow of a doubt, I would already do anything to protect her.
Breaking the silence she says, “You live here? This looks like a cottage straight out of a children’s book.” I watch as her eyes widen, taking in my house. She looks from side to side and back to me in disbelief.
“I didn’t picture this as your house.”
“Oh yeah, sweetheart? And exactly where did you picture me living?”
“I don’t know. I just pictured a guy like you living…”
I interrupt her, “A guy like me?”
What’s that supposed to mean?
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I just meant this place looks so surreal and romantic. I figured you’d have a modern bachelor pad downtown or something.”
“Is that what you want – romance? Hearts and flowers and all that shit?”
There you go opening your fucking mouth. You just can’t leave well enough alone can you?
“It doesn’t have to be romantic, but I want you, Parker. Every day since that night, I’ve wanted you. I even dreamt about you.” The way she says it makes me swallow. Hard. Her seductive tone and timid nature give me mixed signals, but her bright blue eyes tell me how she is really feeling. It’s like they’re calling the shots. Although I hear her talking, her eyes are telling me something. They are both screaming the same thing, but in a different way.
She removes her seatbelt and turns to face me, folding one leg under the other she says, “I’ve touched myself, wishing it was you doing it.” I swallow, hard, again. “You changed me, and…I probably sound like a freak.” She looks away. I know she’s embarrassed, and I don’t know where this is coming from, but I like where it’s going.
“You don’t sound like a freak; you sound incredibly sexy, sweetheart. Keep going.” She shakes her head as her cheeks redden with embarrassment.
“No. I’ve already made a fool out of myself. Should we, umm, go inside?”
“I’ll lead the way.” Her hand reaches to open her door. “Wait, let me.” If anything, I was raised to be a gentleman. Having lived in the South my entire life, that’s something my mother instilled in Carson and I at a young age.
Lightning strikes in the distance as I jump out of my truck and rush to the passenger side door. She places one foot on the metal foot rail and extends the other towards the ground. Her coral sundress bunches up, reminding me of the sweetness hiding beneath of it. The metal bar is dripping wet from the rain falling from the sky. As her foot steps onto the railing, it slips off. She reaches to grab the “oh-shit” handle in the truck as her purse tumbles to the ground, landing in a puddle. Before she is next, I move and grab her waist. My arm is holding her firmly in place, as her feet dangle in the air. As soon as our eyes meet, there is no denying the chemistry. I know she feels it. She just admitted she touched herself thinking about me. The sad part is I have too. I have jerked off so many times I’ve lost count.
Rain is pounding on our heads and the sky has darkened, much too early for this time of day. Making a mental note to check the news station when we get inside, I feel Grace pull her legs up and wrap them around me. My belt presses into my skin from the pressure of her hold. The weight that was being held by my arms lightens as she now has a hold of me. Her blonde hair is stuck to her cheeks and her lips are shaking from her body shivering from the coldness of the rain.
It seems like forever that we have been standing here holding one another’s gaze. She licks her lips, and all my willpower is swept away. My mouth collides with hers with such force it causes her back to press up against the side of the seat in the truck. Her hands wrap around my neck like she is scared to let go. The sound of thunder surrounding us reminds me we are outside. I pull her butt closer to me with my right hand causing her legs to grip around me harder as I step back and hold her in the air. My other hand shuts the truck door, and then I bend down and grab her purse. Walking to the front door is almost impossible with Grace kissing my neck. If she isn’t careful I might sit her down on my front porch and take her right here.
I never thought I would see him again after our spur of the moment ice cream date. I was praying he would contact me again, and when he finally did, I felt a par
t of me relax. Like I was holding my breath, waiting for his call or something. Truth be told, I was. As much as I don’t want to acknowledge it, I could feel myself falling into ‘like’ with him. I know it sounds totally crazy to admit you can feel yourself liking a total stranger, but I can’t deny these feelings anymore.
It was so cute hanging out and talking, and then our impromptu date ended and that was that. We didn’t trade numbers or anything. Shamelessly I confess to looking at my recent call history the moment I got inside my apartment, but the number showed up private.
I accepted that Parker Porter was only a memory, but even with no way of contacting him and not knowing where to find him, it didn’t stop me from thinking about him and our amazing night. But I honestly didn’t think I would ever see him again. I even went as low as hinting around about him to Carson a few times, but he didn’t budge and he never once talked about his brother. I assumed he wasn’t from around here since I never saw him in town, but he was there today. He saw me storm out of the café and saved the day like a superhero.
The entire ride here I was praying to keep my composure, when all I wanted to do was reach over the seat and climb onto his lap. It’s as if my dream came true, and he was here again. I saw him out of the corner of my eye; he was looking at me too. Those hazel eyes that made my heart flutter, kept admiring me. I felt it. The feeling made me hungry for his touch. The moment his mouth found mine, I was a goner. There is no going back from this point. I want him. I need him. And I am pretty sure he is feeling the same. Rain has soaked my dress causing me to shiver. With every step he takes towards his house, I can’t help but kiss him.
“You’re going to be my undoing, unraveling me piece by piece,” he whispers into my ear. His words make every hair on my body stand upright and the thought makes me smile on the inside. The satisfaction of knowing I have some kind of pull over this handsomely built man makes me feel like a woman should. He fumbles in his pocket for his keys and then unlocks the door. We make it over the threshold as he tosses his keys to the floor and then hits a light switch by the door. The lighting is bright against the background of the windows. The sky is black and scary.
The sudden growls of a dog frighten me. I tense in Parker’s arms.
“It’s okay; don’t be scared. She won’t hurt you.” From around the corner a chocolate Labrador runs full speed in our direction.
“Josie, halt!” Parker’s voice sounds strict. She stops in her tracks and sits down, staring in our direction.
“Go lay down, girl.” He shoos her with his hand, and she does as instructed.
“Now where were we?” I tilt my head up and kiss his soft lips. We stay in place exploring each other’s mouths until my lips feel chafed and my feet start to tingle from being suspended in the air for so long. As I shift my weight in his arms trying to get more comfortable, the lights go out. Darkness surrounds us. The sounds of the air conditioner and fans shut off. We both laugh in unison. Nothing is really funny, but the situation – standing making out in the dark – is sort of awkward.
“Can you stand or are your feet too numb?”
“I can stand.” Parker sets me on my feet. My sandals are slippery from being wet so I slide them off and am standing barefoot on his hardwood floor in front of him. He is a good foot taller than me, so he tilts his head down to look at me. My eyes are adjusted to the darkness now, and I can see his features perfectly. His face is a little scruffy and he is wearing a backwards black baseball hat. I hadn’t noticed it before, but he is also wearing basketball shorts.
“Do you work out?” I blurt out without even thinking. Of course he does; his arms are the size of one of my thighs, or maybe both put together.
“Yeah, a little here and there,” he smirks. “Are you thirsty or anything?”
“Some water would be nice.” He extends his hand to me. Grabbing it I follow him into the kitchen area. From what I can see, his house is laid out in an open floor plan. As soon as we walked through the front door we were in the living room, and, directly behind it, separated by an island, is his kitchen.
“Come here,” he extends his hand to me again. I grab it, and he pulls me by my hand closer to his body then places both of his hands on my hips and lifts me in the air. The counter under my exposed thighs feels cool as he leaves me sitting on the island. There is a flicker on the ceiling from the flashlight that he turns on. He must have grabbed it from under the sink. His back is turned to me and I hear the sound of running water coming from the faucet. Taking a second to admire him from behind, I wonder what his ass looks like underneath his silken shorts.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” I didn’t even see him turn around. He strolls towards me, flashlight in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
“Answer me.” His voice is low this time when he speaks. My body shivers. It’s like his voice is calling to me, the words don’t matter, but the pull they have on me does. I want to strip off all of my clothes and beg for him to take me. The change in my demeanor is shocking, but every time I am around him I feel like a different woman. I’m not scared of my own shadow when he is near, and I’m not afraid to tell him what I want. The courage inside of me is building.
“Yes. I like what I see.” He raises his eyebrows. I can tell he doesn’t know what to think of me. One minute I am this shy girl in a bar, then I vomit all over him, and the next second I am begging for him to touch me. My actions have been surprising me as well. But he does it to me. He makes me forget about my past, and although we have only been around one another a handful of times, there is something about Parker that makes me feel safe. It’s hard to imagine he is real. His beauty, his sweet Southern charm, they’re all things we read about or see on TV. As girls we swoon over boy-bands, and as women we swoon over bad boys and book friends, but this masculine man in front of me is every bit real and here with me. It’s like I’ve been so scared of what a normal man would be like, one who didn’t hurt you. I’ve had this painted image of a man I thought only existed in books, in fairytales, in my dreams. But here is Parker: the sex is amazing, he seems to like me…and he seems to be everything I’ve ever desired and dreamed of in a man, in a partner.
“Want to see more?” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully causing her to giggle. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth she nods her head.
All right, she asked for it.
“Do you want some ice in your water?” Using the ice as an excuse to turn around, I slowly pull my basketball shorts down. My ass is now exposed. I wish I could see her face as she notices, but my back is turned away from her. The sweet sound of laughter bellowing from her lungs tells me enough. Opening the freezer I grab two ice cubes and turn back around to face her.
“You are too much!” She laughs as she shakes her head back and forth. Her feet dangle as her legs hang off the counter. There is something so sexy about a woman with nice feet. My eyes take hers in for a few moments. The temperature from the air conditioning being off is making the air thick and musty.
“Are you hot?” I already know the answer to that, but I ask anyway. She doesn’t speak, but nods her head.
“Here maybe this will cool you down.” Taking another step towards the counter where she is sitting, I see her spread her legs apart. Pulling at the sides of her coral dress, she slides it up so her bare legs dangle over the counter, and then she motions with her pointer finger for me to come closer. Standing in between her legs, I take one of the ice cubes to her lips and slowly trace her mouth. The ice is melting causing water to drip onto her exposed thighs but she doesn’t move, so I keep going. Moving the cube away from her mouth, I replace it with my lips. Giving her a little peck, I stick out the tip of my tongue and trace the imaginary lines were the ice was.
She is caught up in the moment and doesn’t see me grab the other ice cube from the counter and bring it up to her neck. Starting at her ear lobe, I move it down her neck and stop, hovering right over her breastbone. Pulling my face away from hers, I peer into her eyes
. Once again I feel like we are talking without actual words. Suddenly as if we are both in a frantic hurry, she lifts her dress up over her ass. Her white lace panties are showing, and then her bra. The dress continues to lift until she has it over her head and tosses it onto the floor. Grace in all her beauty is sitting on my counter in just her bra and underwear. The sight is breathtaking. All reasoning went out the window the moment we stepped through the door. To think nothing would happen was absurd. We both knew what we were coming back here to do, whether we wanted to admit it or not. Here is this perfect, beautiful woman sitting on my counter ready for the taking, and all that crosses my mind is why she was so upset earlier. I want to be buried in her so fucking bad, but for some reason I also want to know why she was upset. How I always end up attracted to broken women is beyond me.
Kristy, my last girlfriend, was perfect. She was kind, beautiful, and a freak in the sheets, which made things that much better, but she wasn’t ready to settle down. There I was, working around the clock, and she was out partying all night. I should have known something was up when she stopped putting out. I mean, who the hell dates for two years, has sex almost every day, and then just suddenly stops? It wasn’t all her fault. I pushed her there, and I get our break-up was partly my fault. If I was around more, she wouldn’t have needed to go out and shack up with half of the guys on campus. The part that pisses me off to no end is knowing I was in the same town. I was working. Busting my ass to provide her with all of the things we talked about. While I was picking out her engagement ring she was blowing the fucking dean. The old, saggy, wrinkly ass dean was filling her mouth, while I was sitting picking out which setting would complement her finger.