by Dylan Allen
“Sweet dreams.”
And then he disconnects.
When I drift off a few minutes later, it’s with my pillow cradled in my arms, a smile on my face, and a song in my heart.
WILD RIVER
HAYES
ONE MONTH LATER
“All of these rivers—St. Francis, the White, and the Arkansas—come together and empty into the Mississippi from this delta,” Confidence points out to me.
“So, it must have been booming once,” I say and look around at the dead downtown of Amorel. There’s the one church building that looks like an ice sculpture that’s melting and the two long park benches chained to the ground in front of the town’s police station.
“It still is,” she tells me. She’s been idly running her fingers through her hair and she slips the end of her ponytail in between her smiling lips.
“Yeah, all of these abandoned buildings scream a booming town.” I laugh and she bumps me with her hip in reproach.
“No, but the blues festival that still happens every single summer does.” Her voice is tinged with defensive love and brims with pride.
“You love it here, don’t you?” I ask her.
“I’m proud of its persistence,” she answers after thinking for a minute. “It’s seen every boom and survived every bust since it was settled in the 1800s. But … the river has given it a constancy. It’s made the soil here some of the most fertile in the world. Most of the forests have been cut down, but look at how ardently what remains still grows. There’s only a small fraction of people who live here when you compare it to before.”
“Where’d they go?” I ask.
“To the city for jobs. Like me.” She shrugs and leans back into me.
We’re driving back to her mother’s house after a day spent sightseeing or maybe just seeing. This is my fifth trip here in eight weeks. It’s the first time we’ve ventured beyond her small town. She drove us out in her mother’s beat-up, old Oldsmobile Delta 88. I’m driving us back. The front bench seat that lets her sit right next to me is the only thing that has made driving around in a car with sponge and wires poking out of the seats, no air conditioning and a barely-functioning radio through the swampy Mississippi Delta bearable.
We roll over the railroad tracks that seem to run through every town in this part of Arkansas and turn onto her mother’s street.
“The place still calls me sometimes, my love for it … This is where blues was born,” she reminds me for the hundredth time. I just smile and nod, grateful that the sun is setting and taking the punishing heat with it. I glance at her. I’ve noticed that when she’s happy, she tucks a lock of hair between her lips. Today, she’s done it so much I’ve lost count. She gazes out of the window as we drive into the wooded area where her mother’s house is.
“The delta is the soul of the South. And while the rest of the South is looking to become the ‘New South,’ we still own our past. Can’t forget that the same time that we gave the nation the blues, we also harbored the KKK. And then, in the sixties it was a steaming cauldron of social change. So, yes, we’re flawed, but we persist.”
We fall silent for the rest of the drive. It’s nearly a mile down this dusty road, lined with white clapboard houses that sit on at least half an acre of land each.
“Do you think you’ll want to come back here and settle?” I ask her, and my throat closes around the question because I’m desperate for the answer to be a very firm no.
“It’s home. But, it’s also got so many bad memories. Between my father and the river, living here was like having a devil at my front and hell at my back. As much as I love our way of life, I’ve never felt like this is where my life was supposed to take root,” she says. “The first flood I was old enough to remember was when I was twelve. I saw how we were left holding nothing, and it made me want to do what I could to make sure that next time we’d do better than just barely survive. I think I can do that more effectively outside of here,” she says without hesitation.
The knot in my throat unclenches, and I smile down at her as we roll into the parking spot under her mother’s covered carport.
“I understand that,” I say simply. Because I do. It’s how I used to feel about returning to Houston permanently. But now, I can see how much potential the city has.
I push the gear shift into park, unbuckle my seat belt, and give her a kiss. She cups my neck with both of her small, strong hands and kisses me back. Her mouth tastes like sunshine and water and trees and smoke. I pull her onto my lap until she’s straddling me. “You’re so sexy when you’re up on that soapbox,” I murmur against her lips.
“Yeah, well my convictions give me the feels …” she jokes.
I don’t laugh. “I know, and that gives me feelings, too,” I say, refusing to use that ridiculous slang.
She hums and rolls her hips in my lap. “Hayes …” she drawls lazily.
The storm door at the back of the house slams against the wooden frame and startles us both.
“You two better get out of there like that before Sheriff Tommy sees you.” Her mother’s distinctive raspy drawl reaches us through the open window.
Confidence jumps so high she hits her head on the sagging ceiling of the car. “Ow,” she complains and rubs it while she climbs off me.
“Go on.” The door wrenches open, and I look up at her mother’s ever present, good-natured smile.
“Hey there, Ms. Dorothea, you look nice tonight.” I smile back.
“Don’t try to charm me, you handsome devil,” she chides.
“I’m not,” I insist and take her hand in mine while I climb out.
“Well, why the hell not?” she asks and then cracks herself up laughing. I walk over to the other side of the car and pull the heavy door open for my girl.
“Hey, Mama,” Confidence calls as she slides out. She mouths a silent thank you before she leans over the top of the car to face her mother.
“Hey yourself, baby. I’ve got Bingo, and I’m gonna be late, so I’ll see you later.” She smiles at her daughter without moving to get into the car.
They are mirror images of each other. Except for the deep lines that bracket and shape Dorothea’s tanned face, they could be twins. Thick blonde hair, vibrant blue eyes, small but generous mouths. They’re even the same height. But where Confidence is shaped like a classic coke bottle—all curves, tits and ass—her mother is as spare as a reed.
“Hayes is leaving tomorrow,” she reminds her.
“I know he is. I’ll see y’all for breakfast.” She winks at both of us before she gets in her car.
“I’ll be back at the crack of dawn, so y’all should get to bed early so that when I wake you up, you don’t feel like you’ve been hit by a two-by-four,” she calls out of the open window before she turns the key and the powerful engine roars to life.
“Last one in the hot tub brings the beers,” Confidence calls out to me as she runs toward the house. In a blur of tanned limbs and blonde hair with a huge smile on her face, she disappears inside.
* * *
“It’s about time,” Confidence shouts when I step out onto the deck.
“Says the girl who wore her bathing suit all day. Some of us had to change.” I scowl at her, hand her a beer, and step into the huge hot tub on her mother’s deck.
She takes a swig of the beer, and some of the cold foam dribbles down her chin and lands on her bare chest. “Ooooh, that’s cold,” she purrs and casts her head back slightly, her eyes gazing downward at me suggestively. As if I need any suggestion. I lean down and lick it off and then drag the tip of my tongue up the damp, salty skin on her neck.
“Mmm, you smell like everything I love about this place,” I tell her and drag her onto my lap.
The bottoms of her bikini are crammed between the two firm, with-just-the-right-amount-of-cushioning ass cheeks that fill my hands.
“And what’s that?” She straddles me, presses her chest against mine and wraps her arms around my neck. Her
breasts spill out of the sides of her skimpy bikini top and the slide of her skin against mine gets me hard right away.
“Smoke, water, trees, clean air,” I murmur in her ears.
She sighs and throws her head back to gaze up at sky that covers us like a black, diamond-encrusted blanket. I nibble on her neck and run my teeth along her throat. A tiny shiver ripples over her body, and she drops her head onto my shoulder.
“I hated having to move back home a couple months ago. I’m still dying to get out of here, but seeing it again through your eyes has made me appreciate it all so much more.” She sighs and rolls those talented hips over me before she slips off my lap and into the water.
She reaches behind her, and a few seconds later her bikini top floats to the top of the water. She reaches into the water and pulls my already hard cock into her hands. I grip the sides and I lift my hips so I float right above the seat I’d been resting on. Her thumb swirls around the dark red, swollen head that pokes out of the water
“I’m all in favor of blowjobs, but it’s not worth your life, ” I tease and thrust up into her hand.
She smiles a secretive, pleased smile before she releases me. She pushes her juicy, firm breasts together and then slides forward and captures my cock in the tight channel she’s made between them.
“I’ll do you one better,” she says, her accent stronger with her drawled promise. She presses her lips to my swollen head and slides up, at the same time that she opens her mouth and takes me into her mouth while she uses the water and her breasts to create a sensation I’ve never even imagined before. I groan and grab the sides of the hot tub to keep from sliding under. “Holy shit!,” She keeps her eyes on mine while she moves up and down in the water.
“Hold them,” she gasps and nods to the sides of her breasts. I put my hands there and she moves hers to cup my balls. She rolls them lightly in her hands, her up and down slide never faltering, her mouth sucking the head of my cock with her every downward stroke of her breasts.
“I’m going fucking crazy,” I groan and stroke her nipples with my thumbs.
“That’s the plan,” she gasps and then she proceeds to make sure her plan succeeds.
“You’re amazing,” I breathe out.
“You make feel like I can do anything,” she says, and I start to come. Without any warning, spurts of cum shoot out of my cock and splatter on her chin and her cheeks before she closes her mouth over me and takes as much of me as she can into her mouth. My fingers dig into the abundant flesh of her tits, and I only realize how hard I’m pressing when she winces.
“Fuck, I’m bruising you,” I say.
“Yes,” she gasps. “I want your bruises.” I buck up into her mouth. She sucks the head of my dick one more time before she slides up my body. When we’re face-to-face, she says, “I want to look in the mirror on Monday and see your fingerprints on my skin and remember how it felt when you put them there.” My pulse jumps in my throat. I cup her cheeks and caress them with my thumb. Her bright eyes, the ones I’ve seen in every dream I’ve had for the last two months, are fixed raptly on mine, and I decide to go for broke.
“I’m about to ask you something,” I tell her.
She stills the up and down movement of her hips. “You’re going to ask me something?” she says quietly.
“Yes, I am,” I say softly. I drag my thumb across the lips I’ve been kissing all day.
“I want you to move to Houston,” I tell her. “Come live with me.”
Her breath hitches, and she drops her face into my neck.
“I haven’t found a job yet, Hayes,” she responds mournfully, and there’s an instinctive tightening in my chest.
I knew this is what she’d say. I force myself to relax. But, I can’t do anything about the urgent beat of my heart. It wants this too much. Needs it too much.
“I can help you with your job search,” I remind her.
“I shouldn’t need help. I have an excellent resume. I’m the fucking expert in a whole practice area,” she says, and her voice is full of frustration that cuts at me. “There’s not a single environmental law practice worth anything that’ll hire me. I think I’ve been blackballed,” she fumes.
“If you would let me make a call—”
“No, Hayes. I don’t want that,” she fusses at me.
“Is your pride more important than being with me?” I ask her quietly.
“That’s not fair. And I shouldn’t have to choose,” she shoots back, pulling herself back from me.
“Life isn’t fair. And I don’t see why it’s a choice. Why does your pride take a hit from letting the man who loves you help you? Wouldn’t you help me if I needed it?”
“As if you’d ever need my—” Her eyes widen and her hands cover her mouth.
“You lo-love me?” she stutters through the finger she pressed to her lips.
Her wide, blue eyes are full of surprise. They glitter in the gloaming light and the ire that was in them from our argument is gone. Joy—unfiltered, unadulterated, replaces it. She’s fucking beautiful right now, and I wish I had my phone so I could capture her like this.
“Of course I do. I’m sorry you’re surprised by that,” I say and lean in to kiss her soft, pliant mouth. She doesn’t kiss me back, so I pull back.
“You don’t need to say anything,” I tell her quickly. And I mean it. I know Confidence loves me, too. Of that, I have zero doubt. So, I go back to the subject that I’ve prepared to stand my ground on. “Just tell me you’ll think about moving,” I add.
She smiles, but there’s still hesitation there.
“I will think about it, but first I want to visit. Meet your family. Is that okay? Just feel like things are more certain. Do you understand?” she asks.
“Are you not sure ... still?” I ask, unable to quell the irritation.
“About us, of course, I’m sure,” she says, and her hands cover mine. She tries to reassure me with her smile, but I don’t return it.
“You’ll never understand, Hayes, how badly I need to get there on my own. I know you’re not him. I know you’d never humiliate me like that, but I also need to be able to feel at peace when I lay my head down at night. That will come from knowing that I got a job because I deserved it and not because anyone helped me,” she pleads with me to understand.
And, I do understand. I just don’t like it.
“You lying next to me without me having to think about what time we’re leaving for the airport the next day would go a long fucking way to doing that for me,” I snap.
She snags her floating dark green bikini top and smiles up at me. “Come here,” she says and steps out of the tub.
“So, I’ll visit?” she asks and I look up at her. Her eyes are pools of blue destiny, and I can see my future in them.
“Yes, but please let me send my plane,” I say.
“How about you just buy an economy class ticket?” she asks, and I stop and place my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me.
“You’re going to have to be comfortable with the fact that I have money. I’m not ashamed of it. I’m going to spend it. And sometimes it will be in frivolous ways that are simply about making my life simpler. We grew up differently. My world is different. And there are parts of being in it that aren’t always comfortable, but they’re necessary.”
“Necessary for what?” she asks.
“To preserve order. To preserve the legacy my ancestors built. To repair the damage that’s been done by the vacuum of leadership my father’s death created.”
“What will your legacy be, Hayes?” she asks and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I don’t know. It’s larger than me. My family, what I do with my time as head of it will be here long after I’m gone. And my stewardship of it will determine its future. When I was a boy, my father used to recite a line from Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. Have you read it?”
“No, only Romeo and Juliet in high school,” she responds.
“Antony and Cleopatra’s basically the same story but with adults and in a historical setting. Anyway, my father would recite this line from it and tell me that it was the way any great leader thought about their responsibility.” I close my eyes and recite from memory.
“‘Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.’ She was talking about dying for what she believed in. But I think of it as believing in something that will outlive you and making sure it does your name justice”
“My uncle has forgotten that. He’s been thinking about right now for so long, he’s lost sight of the future. The next few months are going to be intensely focused on trying to correct its course. But I want to focus on you, too,” I say.
“I’ll visit. With the intent on scoping it for a move,” she says.
“You’ll like it,” I say.
“I don’t doubt it’s a place I’ll like very much,” she says and smiles at me with a plea for understanding in her eyes.
“Fine,” I say and let it go because I don’t want to fight about it anymore.
“Now, come on—I have plans for you.” She pulls me to standing. “Don’t let me forget to drain this in the morning. Mama uses it almost every night she’s home, and I’d hate for her to be soaking in your cum tomorrow night,” she says and then she saunters off, that round, sweet ass completely bare as her bikini nestles into the hot crevices of her body.
Speaking of places we like very much … I catch up with her in three strides, snag her around the hips, and hoist her over my shoulders.
She starts to pummel them right away. “Put me down,” she shrieks through a giggle. “This is my seduction, Hayes Rivers.” She wiggles and rolls.
“Oh, my Tesoro.” I tighten my grip on her and smack her ass just hard enough that I know she’ll be distracted by the sting and turned on by the promise in it. “This seduction is all me,” I tell her and open her bedroom door. I toss her onto the pile of crumpled sheets on the bed.
I pull my cock out of my shorts and run my fist up the length. Her tongue darts out and she swipes it across her pink, plush lower lip.
