by Louise, Tia
“Make sure the bed’s not ruined. I didn’t even think to get a towel.”
She dashes to the bathroom, and I check the sheets—all clean. The frustration and anger in my chest have dissolved into contentment and calm. “Get out here so I can cuddle you and shower you with affection.”
The door opens, and she’s holding a towel, smiling up at me. “Are you making fun of me?”
Leaning my arm on the doorjamb above her head, I lean into a kiss, pulling her lips with mine. “Never. I want to hold you… and maybe do it again.”
“Ah…” She grins, stretching up to kiss me again. “That sounds more like it. You’re going to have to hold that thought. We’ve got to sleep tonight.”
She starts for the door, but I catch her waist. “Wait.”
A big smile is on her lips as she turns around to meet me. It fades into warmth, and she puts her palm against my cheek. “What is it?”
“I want you to stay with me. I’ll set the alarm early. I want to hold you tonight.”
Blinking several times, she nods, following me to the bed again. I crawl in first, lying on my back, and she climbs in, resting her cheek on my chest. I thread my fingers in her long hair, sliding my thumb along her soft shoulder. This is what heaven must be like.
Heaven is finding the thing you can’t live without and being able to hold it.
Hell is knowing you’ll have to let it go.
10
Noel
Taron is waiting in the kitchen while I finish putting on my makeup. I’ve chosen a peach eyelet sundress with an empire waist that stops mid-thigh to wear to the festival. This dress doesn’t allow for a bra, so I opted for no underwear as well. I get turned on every time my thighs swish together. I can’t wait for him to find out…
Leon informed us he’s taking Betsy to the festival, and he doesn’t need us to chaperone him. He has no idea he’d be the real chaperone going with Taron and me.
I’ve heard that old expression about taking the lid off the jar… or maybe it’s taking the genie out of the bottle? Either way, it applies a hundredfold to having sex with Taron.
We’ve spent the entire week barely able to keep our hands off each other. We only did it once Monday night, but by Wednesday, we’d done it a million more times.
I told him I’d started the pill, and he ditched the condoms. He said they all got tested at the start of basic, and he’s clean, which meant we’ve been sneaking around, doing it anywhere and everywhere.
We’ve had sex in his bed every night, in my bed twice, in the old red Chevy once, in the lake every day… The hottest time was when we were in the kitchen together, and I was cutting up peaches to make preserves.
I’d held up one of the blush-pink fruits and asked him what it reminded him of… Yes, I was being naughty, and when I saw the fire in his eyes, I dragged him into the pantry. He spun me to face the window, and I gripped the ledge while he flipped my skirt over my peachy ass.
Feeling him behind me, working to get his pants down made me hotter than asphalt in July, and my pussy was so wet, by the time he thrust into me, I was coming on his dick.
One hand slipped under my shirt, cupping and squeezing my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. The other went between my legs, circling and massaging my clit, turning my knees to liquid.
I dropped my head back against his shoulder, losing myself in the sensations buzzing from the arches of my feet to the place where we came together.
He groaned and thrust so hard, I went up on my toes, at times leaving the ground, and the noise he made when he came vibrated in my bones. He pulsed deep within me, and his come mixed with my wetness was slippery on the back of my thighs.
From there, we took the three-wheeler down to the lake to clean up. Holding hands in the water, he told me he wasn’t sure what the future will look like now that we’ve found each other. I couldn’t tell him the feelings swirling in my chest and in my heart toward him. I was still afraid to even think them.
He’s my first love. He’s my first real kiss. He’s my first everything…
I don’t know how I’ll let him go in two days. I only know I’ll have to, and I don’t know what will happen after that.
When I walk into the kitchen tonight, I stop to take in his handsome form, standing in front of me in dark jeans and a short-sleeved polo.
He lets out a low whistle, and I pause in the doorway feeling self-conscious.
“You’re so beautiful.” His voice is hushed, and he walks slowly to where I stand.
My hair is styled in large curls cascading down my shoulder, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, taking a deep breath of my hair.
“You smell good… Is that one of yours?”
“It’s the lotion you helped me mix, remember? You picked the scent.”
It’s light coconut, peach, and rose, and it almost smells like a day at the beach—with fresh peaches on the side.
He cups my cheek and kisses me slowly, possessively. Our lips pull, and that familiar, delicious heat ignites beneath my skin.
We’re the only ones in the house, and I want to take his hand and slide it under my skirt… Only, I know if I do that, we’ll never make it to the festival, and I have to check in with Mindy’s mom.
“You kiss me, and I forget everything.” My hand is on his cheek and when our eyes meet, we smile.
“I’m just the opposite. I start getting ideas.” He gives me that bad-boy wink, and I start to laugh.
“Come on.” Tugging his hand under my arm, I lead us out the back. “I can’t wait to see if people buy my stuff. I can’t wait to show Sawyer my untapped market.”
His hand is around my waist, and he walks me to the old red Chevy. “I fully intend to tap your market.”
“Is that so?
“You know it.” The low rumble of his voice does crazy things to my insides.
“Let’s check on the actual market then I’ll let you in the secret market a little later.”
“Secret market.” He grins and kisses me again. “I’m intrigued.”
Shaking my head, I climb into the truck and scoot all the way across so I’m right beside him. I realize just how serious I am about this store when his hand rests between my knees and I don’t even slide it higher.
The Bible says there’s a time and a place for everything, and it’s time to see if I’m going to make a success of this organic products business.
The peach-eating contest is well underway when we pull up in front of the town civic center and city hall. Tents line the perimeter, and a big funnel cake booth greets us at the entrance.
Taron pays the ten dollars to grant us entrance, and we head straight for Mrs. Jenny’s booth. Mindy’s mom is shorter than me, and about forty pounds heavier. Her dark hair is cut close to her ears and hangs in sausage curls around her cheeks. Tonight, she’s wearing a purple dress with little flowers all over it.
“We’re almost sold out of those peach-scented candles.” Mrs. Jenny’s clear voice rises above the noise of people talking and the live band playing zydeco music at the end of the row.
“Sold out!” My voice goes loud, and my heart jumps to my throat. “It’s only the first night! I don’t think I have enough left over to go through Saturday.”
“That lotion you made is a big hit, too.” She hands me a green vinyl bank bag containing checks and cash. “People are saying they love the scent.”
Looking up at Taron, I press my elbow into his side. “That’s the one you did. The one I’m wearing tonight.”
But instead of being excited for me, his brow furrows. “You’re selling that one? That one’s just for you. It’s your signature scent.”
“Taron!” My voice goes louder. “I’m trying to launch a business here.”
“Yeah, but I only want that smell on you.”
“There’s more than three hundred million people in this country. I don’t think the few who buy my lotion are going to take away from you smelling me.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll smell you.” He leans down and gives my neck a sharp inhale then a little bite, and I squeal a laugh. Happiness bubbles in my stomach. I’ve never felt so optimistic.
Mrs. Jenny’s left eyebrow rises, and she looks from me to Taron and back to me. “Noel Aveline, you haven’t introduced me to your beau.”
“Aveline.” Taron’s voice is low at my ear, sending goose bumps skating down my arms.
“Oh, Mrs. Jenny Ray, this is Taron Rhodes.” I hold out my hand from him to her. “He’s Sawyer’s friend… from the Marines.”
“Is that so?” She smiles and nods, and I feel embarrassed all of a sudden, like she knows what we did in the pantry.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Ray.” Taron shakes her hand so politely.
“You’re in the Marines with Sawyer?” Her voice has that edge like it did when she caught Mindy and me sneaking out of Mindy’s bedroom window.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you’re being deployed with him at the end of the week?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her dark eyes move to mine, and I feel that painful knot in my throat. A soft voice is in my head, We weren’t going to talk about this, remember… Only that was just something Taron and I unofficially decided between the two of us.
As if that would stop it from coming.
“It’s too bad we won’t get to know you better.”
Heat rises in my eyes, but I blink it away fast. Tonight is for holding hands and being in love and celebrating the fact I have a market for my store, not crying.
Taron doesn’t miss a beat. “Autumn’s bounty? How did you come up with the name?”
I focus on the white label with a peach outline of the sun over a tree. “I like the name Autumn. Mindy helped me with the design.”
“I love it.” He gives me a wink then turns to Mrs. Jenny. “I need a couple of those lip balms there.”
Mrs. Jenny picks up two tiny jars and holds them out. “These are selling like hotcakes, too. You’d better be careful, because they’ll walk away.”
My eyes widen. “People are stealing them?”
“Not on my watch. I’m just saying.” She waits as Taron passes her a twenty, and I try to decide if I’m pissed or flattered. “It’s also higher than people are used to spending on lip balm.”
“It’s priced for the market—” I’m about to defend myself when Taron catches my arm.
“I want to see the pie eating contest if we haven’t missed it.” His expression tells me not to argue.
“You okay, Mrs. Jenny? Do you need me to stay?”
Her eyes glide from me to Taron, and she softens. “No, honey. You go on and enjoy the festival. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
Stepping around the table, I give her a tight hug. “Thank you.”
My hand is back in Taron’s as we walk across the rows of tents, past the zydeco band at the end playing “Jolie Blonde.” I hesitate a moment. It’s my favorite zydeco song… But Taron gives me a tug, and we continue toward the pavilion, where picnic tables are arranged in a line and a group of ten kids to grownups sit in front of peach pies with bright red and white checked bibs tied around their necks.
We watch the first round, with me gagging and laughing. Then Taron spots the antique car show. He pulls me to a row of cars from old beaters to slick race cars. He’s especially interested in the glossy Model T. The owner, a man from Ferriday, is glad to tell him all about it. Watching them talk, I’m surprised to learn my man is a car geek.
My man… the words sprang into my mind unbidden.
Can I call him that? My heart says an emphatic yes, but we’ve never had the conversation… Am I his?
While they talk shop, I survey the fair grounds. Banners are all around celebrating the 70th anniversary of the festival. I catch sight of my brother standing with his arms crossed beside another, older man inside the Official Peach Grower’s tent. The way he talks, considering, thoughtful makes me miss my daddy.
Daddy always loved the Peach Festival. It was his favorite time of the year—and not just because it signaled the end of our hardest-working days. It was symbolic of what he’d accomplished. He’d gone from nobody to being a leader in our small community.
An old, familiar ache is in my bones, and my brother’s eyes catch mine. He smiles, and I do a little wave. Taron walks up behind me, putting his hand on my waist, and I see the change in Sawyer’s expression, like he’s just seeing for the first time what’s been under his nose for two weeks. I’m not sure if I should be worried or glad.
“What else do you want to do?” I blink away from whatever my brother is thinking and smile up at his friend.
“Oh, I’ve done this a hundred times. What would you like to see?”
He narrows his eyes as if he’s thinking. “Princess Peach. I want to see what kind of supermodels they have competing this year.”
“It’s a pageant for six year-olds.”
“Which you didn’t win. Those kids have to be on beauty-pageant steroids to beat you.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“I still want to see what kind of rigged system they’re running here. You could win a pageant soaking wet in a burlap sack.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I didn’t want to be in it.”
“Stop making excuses and lead the way.”
We’re intercepted by a hawker guiding us to the Ferris wheel—something I’d so much rather do than revisit my childhood failure.
One look at my face, and Taron buys two tickets for us to go all the way to the top and come back down again. We’re in our car, and I scoot in close to his side, wrapping his arm over my shoulder and thinking about all the good things… my product line being a success, having this wonderful man on my arm… I overheard Sawyer saying we’d had our best harvest in years, thanks to the extra hands. So many good things. My heart is so full of gratitude.
The wind blows in short gusts laced with the metallic scent of rain the higher we rise. A storm is moving in, and I think about what’s building between Taron and me. Our love is wild like a tornado, consuming and fierce… yet at the same time, it can be soft and gentle like a butterfly, like the way he’s touching my cheek right now.
My eyes flicker up to his, and he smiles. “Noel Aveline LaGrange.” So much love is in his eyes, it takes my breath away. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
Dark lashes frame his pale eyes, and I slide my thumb over his full bottom lip. “You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”
That gets me a sexy smile. “Can boys be pretty?”
“You can.” Scooting closer, I put my chin on his shoulder. “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
“I’m pretty happy, too.” His arm tightens around me. “I wish…”
His voice trails off, and my chest aches. I know what he wishes. It’s what I wish for every night he holds me as we sleep. I wish he weren’t leaving. I wish we could be together always. I wish the best things in my life didn’t always seem to end.
I wish our love would last.
Lifting my chin, I meet his earnest gaze. The lights flicker in his eyes like a million promises we have yet to make.
He catches my cheek and pulls my mouth to his, pushing my lips apart and tracing his tongue along mine. My insides catch flame, and I feel my stomach rise as the wheel moves, taking us back down to the ground.
Lightning illuminates the clouds, and I guide his wrist to my knees, under my skirt, tracing his fingers higher to the apex of my thighs. His gaze darkens when he discovers my secret, and my stomach tightens. I love the hungry look in his eyes.
“Come with me.” His voice is rough as sandpaper, and he pulls me quickly from the car, down the steps, and across the short distance to the civic center.
The pageant is in the final rounds, and music blasts, accompanied by the voice of Mr. Newman the MC announcing the names of the five finalists.
Roaring is in my ears, and my focus is on one thing as he
leads me quickly into a small room, an empty office with only the exit sign providing pale green light. We spin inside, and he backs me against the door, dropping to his knees and lifting my skirt.
My hand flies out to brace the wall, and I wouldn’t stop him if I could.
His nose nudges at my bare pussy, and my knees go liquid. “Taron…” It’s a strained whisper as his warm tongue makes its first pass over my slippery clit. “Oh, God… Yes…”
Strong hands grasp my thighs, lifting me higher. He spreads me wider as his mouth goes deep, covering me, then sliding his tongue up again, focusing on my clit.
His beard scratches my inner thighs, and my hips buck involuntarily. My head drops back against the door, and a blast of music covers my moans.
He makes me come so hard, my thighs shudder in his grip. Wild moans ripple from my belly. A million fireworks shoot off through my veins to a variation of the Miss America theme, and what he’s doing to me is better than any pretend crown.
With a final kiss to the seam of my leg, he rises, covering my mouth with his and muffling my moans. My hands struggle with his to unbuckle his pants, to shove them down, and free his massive cock.
I ache for him.
My need for him is deep in my bones.
He doesn’t make me wait.
With one strong thrust, he’s inside, letting out a low groan. My arm is around his shoulders, holding his neck as he pushes me higher, thrusting deeper as I’m pinned against the door, and it’s so good. I want to hold him forever, hold him so tight, and never let him go.
The friction between us drives me up and over the cliff with him again. Our bodies grasp and pull, we groan in unison as we ride out the sensation. It’s incredible… our breath labored, holding each other so close. I can feel his heart beat against my chest. The music outside dies down, and it’s only us in this space.
These last few days, what’s happening between us is about lust and need and obsession with each other’s bodies, but it’s also about young love, fierce love, a love so strong it might be able to survive…
