“Last question, Cadence.”
He reached up to run a fingertip along my jawline and stared intently into my eyes. I shivered, but it wasn’t from his touch or his piercing gaze. There was something about the way he said those three little words that sent goosebumps racing down my spine and made my breathing become shallow.
“Okay, shoot,” I responded, trying to sound casual even though my words came out in barely a whisper.
“Can I touch you?”
My breath caught in my throat.
Touch me?
Like how? Like he was doing now? With his hand on my face?
“You are touching me, Fitz.”
His hand lowered to the hem of my tank top, skimming across the thin line of skin that was exposed just above the waistband of my shorts. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if trying to convey a message to me without using words. I may have been inexperienced in the boy department, but I knew what he wanted. I just wasn’t sure how much he wanted.
My chest rose and fell rapidly. A weird sensation began to build in my belly, a slow burn that moved south and caused a throbbing sensation between my legs. But he didn’t veer away from the spot on my stomach. He just continued to trace his finger back and forth, as if drawing an invisible repeating line between my hip bones, teasing the sensitive skin. His gray eyes bore into mine, filled with a searing heat that was palpable.
“I want to touch you in a way that I haven’t before, but I won’t do it without your permission, sweetheart.”
That word. Sweetheart. The way he said it practically turned me inside out. It always did, even in the early days when I pretended to be annoyed at him for calling me that. I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest from nervous anticipation. My hands trembled as I reached up to trace the lines and curves of his face. My fingers moved across his lips. His cheeks. His strong jaw. I wanted to feel him, to have him closer, and to have him touch me in places I never wanted to be touched before. I hadn’t realized how bad I wanted it until that very moment.
Patiently, he waited for me to respond.
“Yes, Fitz. You can touch me.”
He released a low groan before slowly inching his hand up under my tank, but he never took his eyes from mine. His moves were hesitant, yet deliberate, as he skimmed along my ribcage. He paused when he connected with the elastic line of my thin cotton bra. Leaning in, he licked his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to my mouth. It was a cautious kiss as if he had doubts about my decision to let him touch me.
Almost involuntarily, my back arched, and I kissed him harder. I kissed him like I’d always daydreamed about but had been too afraid to. It was sweet, deep, and hungry. There was no holding back. This was my silent message to him, telling him that touching me was okay. That I wanted this to happen.
The noise he made in the back of his throat sounded like something between a gasp and a moan. But it was full of appreciation. Our kisses had never felt so good, so all-consuming. We were all lips and tongue as his hand slipped around to my back, skimming along the clasp of my bra.
Shifting his weight, he moved his body over mine. The feel of his body pressing me against the dock made all sorts of things stir inside. Keeping his one arm positioned behind my back, he pulled me closer to him. His free hand roamed up my side, pushing up my tank top as he went. With a quick pinch and a tug, my bra was unclasped. I tried not to think about why he was so good at that as he pushed up the white cotton material to reveal my breasts. He cupped one in his palm as his lips moved from my mouth to my neck, softly suckling as he went.
Pulling back slightly, he looked down at my now exposed breasts.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Cadence,” he whispered, his eyes huge. The string of expletives told me that he liked what he saw. For some reason, that made me feel good. I liked him liking that part of me. I was always a little self-conscious about my small breasts that barely filled a B-cup.
He lowered his head, capturing a pink nipple between his lips. The sensation was shocking almost, but oh-so-good. His hot mouth worked over one breast while his hand molded the other. Even the most delicate touches were making me shake, causing every muscle in my body to grow tighter and tighter.
“Fitz. More,” I breathed. I wasn’t sure what I needed more of exactly, I only knew I had a want I couldn’t define. I found myself reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. I pulled it up, craving the feel of his bare solid body against my feverish skin. My fingers trailed over the muscles of his abdomen and over his hard pectorals. Gripping his back, I pulled his body tighter to mine and scissored my legs around his waist. I felt a tightening low in my belly. Pressing my pelvis up against him, I groaned.
Fitz stilled and lifted his head to look at me.
“Cadence,” he panted. “I’m sure that I’m going to kick my own ass for this later, but we need to stop.”
Reality came crashing down. We were a mess of twisted up limbs, breathless and sweaty, on the brink of catastrophe caused by over-eagerness. Of course we needed to stop. Things had gotten way too hot in a hurry.
God, what was I thinking?
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never–”
“Shhhh,” he said and silenced me by placing a finger over my lips. And then he kissed me. Once, then twice. “I know that you’ve never. That’s why we should stop. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
He pulled me up to a sitting position and reached around to refasten my bra. Once it was secure, he pulled my tank down to cover me. His actions were so tender, and I could feel myself slipping…falling. I had no experience with romance or love, but the pitter-patter of my heart told me that I was falling head over heels for him.
“Fitz,” I whispered and reached up to touch his face. “You’re the keeper of my heart. I could never have any regrets when it comes to you.”
“Never say never,” he warned. His eyes, pools of gray that were filled with desire just moments ago, were now sad. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s getting late. Let’s get you home.”
I stared at him, confused by his sudden change in mood, and wondered if I had said something wrong. I wanted to ask, but I nodded my agreement instead and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Tomorrow was my day for questions. Until then, it could wait.
12
FITZ
The sun beat down through the muggy air, the moisture feeling like liquid fire on my back as I dragged the remaining tools inside the barn. After putting them all away, I used the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow. The day was like a sauna turned all the way up, set to full blast and would never compromise any sort of relief. I could use a shower but Mr. Jimmy had given me extra work today, and I didn’t have time. Cadence was probably already at the lake, and I was running late.
I climbed the ladder to the loft, planning to swap out my t-shirt for a clean one and put on a fresh layer of deodorant. When I reached the top, I saw Devon had recently been up there. The clothes that I saw him wearing earlier in the day were now thrown in a haphazard pile on the floor, his toiletry bag lay strewn wide open and spilling onto his mattress. The water droplets covering the shampoo bottle signaled a recent shower. It was clear he was already out for the night which meant that Mr. Jimmy hadn’t given Devon nearly the amount of work that he gave me. That was unlike him. The man was always all about fair and equal work.
I frowned and wondered if Cadence’s mother had told her husband about the wink she saw me give Cadence on the stage set yesterday. She probably did tell him which might explain why he doled out so many bullshit jobs to me today.
I shook my head, hoping to hell that he didn’t suspect something was up between Cadence and me. If he did, today just might have been the first sign of what was to come. He had me doing everything from cleaning out the toilets to hauling firewood to all the cottages–despite the fact that each cottage still had a stack eight logs high. I ripped off the rotting two-by-fours surrounding the crumbling foundation of
a cottage and replaced shingles on a sweltering black roof. I was kept so busy, I barely had time to wolf down a sandwich at lunch. And forget dinner. By the time I got to Creator Hall, dinner hour was long over.
After a quick change of my shirt, I grabbed the bag of snacks that was inevitably going to be the only sustenance I’d get tonight. I dreaded the idea of turning last night’s left-over bag of Bugles into a gourmet meal, but any food was better than no food. Swinging my legs over the top rung of the ladder, I climbed down and headed toward the outskirts of the camp.
Finding the narrow tree-lined path that would take me to the lake, I stepped into the thick brush. Trees rustled overhead, swaying in the warm evening breeze. As I rounded the final bend before the lake clearing, I caught a whiff of something–vanilla and sugar. I smiled, instantly recognizing Cadence’s scent.
“Boo!” Cadence exclaimed and jumped out from behind a nearby tree.
“Nice try,” I laughed.
“Oh, come on! Didn’t I scare you? Even a little bit?”
I dropped the bag I was holding and snagged her by the hand. Pulling her into my arms, I spun her around and buried my face in her neck.
“Not even a little bit. I smelled your perfume or whatever it is you wear. It gave you away,” I murmured against her ear. “It’s like a vanilla dessert.”
I took her hand and kissed it, then reached up to trace my finger along her lower lip.
“Not so fast there, mister. You wouldn’t want me to think the only reason you come to the lake is to steal kisses from me, do you?”
I grinned.
“Is there another reason?” I teased. Her heart-shaped lips were always a weakness of mine. Despite her protest, I leaned in to kiss her. She didn’t resist for more than a second, so I squeezed her body tighter to me. After a few moments, she reluctantly seemed to pull away.
“Come on,” she said, tugging at my hand. “It’s my turn to ask questions tonight.”
I groaned.
“Do we have to?”
“Hey, now. This was your idea, remember?”
“Don’t remind me,” I mumbled. “But, hey, before we get started, I need to get some of this sweat off my skin. Your dad had me working overtime today, and I didn’t have time to shower.”
She slipped her hand into mine and looked questioningly at me.
“Is that what took you so long to get here?”
“Yeah, he was kind of a slave driver today.”
As we stepped out of the woods into the clearing, I stripped out of my t-shirt and shoes. Dropping them to the ground, I ran up the dock and dove in. The shock of the cool water over my heated skin may have been the best thing I’d ever felt. Resurfacing, I saw Cadence standing on the dock above me.
“Where’s Dahlia tonight?” I asked her, suddenly noticing the absence of the playful pup that had really begun to grow on me. I was hoping to use my fetch-loving friend as a way to avoid the interrogation I was sure Cadence was about to give.
“She was out cold when I left. I think the heat wore her out today, so I decided to leave her be.”
Damn.
Reluctantly, I swam to the shoreline and joined her on the dock. She handed me one of the towels she always brought with her.
“Thanks,” I said as I shook the excess water from my hair. Water droplets rained down around me… and on her.
“Hey!” Cadence shrieked. “Who needs Dahlia here when I’ve got you to shake all that wetness all over me?”
Smiling wickedly, I grabbed her around the waist. Pulling her to me in a tight bear hug, my wet chest and shorts soaked her dry clothes. She struggled, but I held her firm. Her vanilla scent wafted between us, causing my mouth to water. Keeping one arm securely around her waist, I used my free hand to grip the back of her head, so I could lean in for a long, deep kiss.
Instantly, she stopped squirming and all but melted into me, her hands curling around my neck as she hungrily entwined her tongue around mine. I pressed deeper into her mouth. Shock vibrated down my spine, followed by a searing arousal only she was able to entice. A little moan escaped her mouth before she angled her head back.
“As much as I’d love to stand here kissing you all night, I think you’re stalling.” I only grinned and leaned down to nuzzle her neck. Her hands went to my shoulders, pushing me off. “Question time, buddy. You promised.”
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play the little game I had proposed, but I was worried how personal Cadence’s questions were going to be. I hadn’t thought of that when I suggested it, only thinking about appeasing her concerns at the time.
I sat down across from her on the blanket she had spread out on the dock before I arrived. Music was already playing from her stereo. I hummed along to a Dave Matthews Band sax solo while Cadence tapped her chin softly. She appeared to be contemplating what she wanted to ask me first.
While she thought, I couldn’t help noticing the dahlia flowers that were in full bloom along the edge of the forest.
“The flowers would make a pretty picture today,” I observed. “You should have brought your sketchbook.”
“Maybe, but the lighting won’t last for much longer,” she said, pointing to the sun was low in the sky. “If I’m going to draw them, I need to get here in the morning or afternoon.”
“We’re off together next week Saturday. We should plan on coming earlier. Spend the day,” I suggested.
“All day?”
“It could be fun. I know I could use a day away from listening to the band rehearsing Singin’ in the Rain. I swear I hear the song in my sleep now,” I laughed. “Speaking of which, that reminds me. This afternoon, while I was working near the stage set, I wondered why you aren’t part of the crew. I mean, you have amazing talent. You could help with set design.”
“I’m a temperamental artist. I can’t draw on command, I need to be in the mood. Sure, my mother would have loved for me to follow in her footsteps in some way or another. But outside of my sketches, there’s not a creative bone in my body–at least not one I could make a decent living with. I can’t sing or dance. My fingers could never get the hang of the frets on a violin or the keys of a clarinet. I tried though,” she added with a small laugh. “It just wasn’t my thing.”
“So what is your thing?”
“When I’m not drawing, I’d have to say it’s school. Studying. Reading. I’ve always had a love for books. It was like I couldn’t get enough of them. I’ve read everything from Silent Spring to Wuthering Heights. Math isn’t my forte, but literature and history I love.” When she caught my incredulous stare, she turned somewhat defensive. “It’s not a bad thing to enjoy learning.”
I smiled.
“No. It’s not a bad thing at all. It’s just that…well, most of the girls I knew at school planned to party their first year of college away. None of them wanted to get an early start on their thesis.”
She shrugged indifferently.
“I guess I just found learning about the beginnings of the environmental movement or dissecting the relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine to be more interesting than going to parties.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I think I’m pretty well read, but you lost me there. Heathcliff and who?”
“They’re characters in a book,” she waved off before pursing her lips in a frown. “You seem to be asking all the questions here. Are you trying to stall again?”
“Busted,” I joked and put my hands up to signal she had the floor. “I’ll stop. Fire away.”
She took a deep breath and studied me for a moment before speaking.
“You mentioned girls at school. If all they want to do is party, then you’ve clearly met the wrong ones. Have a lot of those kinds of girls been your girlfriend?”
“Sure.” I shrugged. “I mean, I wouldn’t call any of them steady. I took advantage of the fact I was the star basketball player on my high school team. It wasn’t too hard to get girls horizontal. In
college, I didn’t have to be the star of anything. I was a rich party boy. Those girls either saw me as a good time or a kid who came from money.”
She grimaced and seemed taken aback.
“I wasn’t referring to sexual exploits. I meant just normal dating.”
“Oh, sorry,” I apologized awkwardly, realizing how crude I must have sounded. “I didn’t mean to come across like an ass–I’m not bragging or anything. In fact, I’m not particularly proud of it now. For some reason, you’ve seemed to change the way I look at things.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to explain why she seemed to affect me so much. As the music transitioned from jazz to the more acoustic sound of Radiohead’s High and Dry, I thought about the positive and forward-thinking outlook Cadence had on things. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have any dark pockets in her life like I did or any sort of pre-determined fate to keep her from following her dreams.
“Tell me about your family. What are they like?”
Shit. That didn’t take her long.
“You don’t want to know about them, Cadence. The situation is fucked up,” I told her, my tone almost a pained warning.
“No really, I do. I have such a great relationship with my parents. I know your mom died, but you always seem so bitter whenever your dad is mentioned. I’m trying to understand why.”
I let out a long breath, not sure if I wanted to get into the tale. I didn’t know what it was about this girl. She kept trying to get me to open up, and I didn’t like it, but I was the one to set the rules of the game. I couldn’t very well renege.
“I never met my father until I was eight. My mom kept his existence hidden from me,” I began. “Despite his money, she wanted nothing to do with him because of the way he had hurt her. But when she got sick, she felt I had to know. My mom was an only child and her parents had long since passed. Having no especially close friends to turn to, she was worried about me becoming a ward of the state if something happened to her. Plus, she recognized the fact my father was a man of considerable means. I think she wanted me to have a piece of that pie and the advantages that came with it.”
Cadence Untouched: A Dahlia Project Novel Page 10
