“Sometimes,” I admit.
His face falls and he drops my foot into the water.
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand to stop him. I can tell I just hurt his feelings. “It’s not because you can’t walk. It’s just because I don’t know what all you need. What I can do to help you, or not do. You can be kind of touchy about that stuff.”
His left eye narrows. “Touchy?”
“Yes, touchy.” I pick up the bar of soap and hold it out to him. “Go back to what you were doing.” I grin at him and he soaps his hands up. I lift my foot from the water and he takes it into his lap again.
“I’m not touchy.” He puts emphasis on the last word when his knuckle digs into my heel.
“Yes, you are. You probably don’t even realize it.” I take a breath. “In fact, I’m sure you don’t realize it. Just like I probably don’t realize how fast I leave a room full of men. Or how I don’t like it when casual acquaintances put their arms around my shoulders. Peck pointed it out to me one day. She was right, but I didn’t like hearing it. Not a bit.”
His fingers travel up the back of my ankle, ghosting around the sensitive skin, and a delicious shiver crawls up my spine when his fingertips walk up my shin.
“But you don’t mind it when I touch you.” It’s not a question. He’s stating a fact he’s already aware of.
“No, I don’t.”
“Why not? Because of my chair?” His voice is quiet but strong.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“With or without the use of my legs, I could still overpower you.”
“I know you could.”
“Do you? Then why do you let me touch you?”
I jerk my foot back and slide back to my side of the large tub. “I don’t know why. All right? I have no idea why you don’t scare me. But you don’t.” I think about it. “Well, not that way, anyway. Not physically. I don’t think you would hurt me.”
“Why not?”
I suck in a breath and then count to ten while I release it. “When I was doing that thing for you the other day…”
He grins. “The blowjob!” he whispers vehemently.
“That thing,” I say again. “You could have held my head in place or forced me to take it deeper or any number of other things against my will, but you didn’t. You just let me do it and you enjoyed what I did.” I stop. “Wait. Why didn’t you take over? Did you know then about what happened to me?”
“No, no!” he rushes to say. “That wasn’t it at all. I was enjoying the fuck out of what you were doing. I wasn’t even thinking about the past. Or the future. Or anything else but coming.”
“I was willing to try swallowing,” I murmur. My cheeks fill with heat.
He laughs. “I know you were.” He waits a beat. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a deal.”
I narrow my eyes at him and he laughs. “What kind of deal?”
“I won’t assume you’re pitying me and you don’t assume I’m holding back because of your past. Deal?” He waits for me to answer.
“Deal,” I say.
“Good. Now will you please come over here? I don’t like for you to be so far away, seeing as how you’re naked and all.” He laughs.
“Come where?”
“On my face, preferably, but I’ll be happy if you’ll just come and slide in here close to me.”
He has such a naughty mind. “Are you going to touch me?” I ask. God, I hope he’s going to touch me.
“Unless you tell me you don’t want me to, yes.” He says it so directly. So succinctly. “You tell me to stop and I will. That’s all you have to do. Tell me to stop. I’ll listen. I promise.”
“You promise?”
He holds up a hand. “I swear it.”
I hop up on my knees and look down at my boobs. They’re covered in mounds of bubbles. I walk on my knees over to him. He pushes to one side of the tub, but I center his legs between mine and straddle him, moving up to where I can meet my torso with his.
“This is much better than what I had in mind,” he murmurs. He hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. Then he kisses me. I lose the ability to speak, because I’m on top, I’m in charge, and he’s letting me do this.
Josh’s lips tug at mine, and his tongue tangles with mine inside my mouth, licking and nibbling and biting until I’m breathless and wiggling. He pulls back and looks at my face.
“I’m okay,” I say even before he can ask.
“I know,” he says quietly.
His hand skims up my side and he palms the side of my breast. He lifts it to his lips as he looks into my eyes. My nipple strains toward his lips and I arch my back, trying to get closer and closer. He blows a warm breath against my cold, hard nipple and my own breath escapes me. “Please, Josh,” I beg.
He barely touches his lips to my nipple, and then he pulls back. “What do you want, Star?” He covers my nipple with his open mouth, but he doesn’t bear down or make contact. He just hovers there.
“Please,” I say again.
“Right here?” he asks around my nipple.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Suddenly, he tightens his arm around my waist, and his hand cups my breast a little tighter, and he sucks my nipple into his mouth. Pleasure shoots straight to the center of me, and I have to reach for his shoulders to keep from falling. I hold tightly to him.
“I’ve got you,” he says, lifting his head for barely a second. “I won’t let you fall.” Then he sucks my nipple back into his mouth. Hard. He’s not gentle or easy. He takes me inside his mouth and tugs, lips and teeth and tongue pulling, teasing, and sucking.
His free hand slips up my waist and he grabs my other breast, kneading and tugging. I moan. “God, Josh…”
He drops my breasts, but he doesn’t let my nipple fall from his mouth as he palms my ass and jerks me hard against him, pulling me forward, as close as I can get to his swim trunks. The hard length of his manhood presses against me.
“Too fast?” he asks.
“Not fast enough,” I tell him. I palm the back of his head, abrading his scalp with my fingernails, and he starts to hum around my nipple. It’s a hot, happy sound and I like it. “Josh…” The place between my thighs is thrumming like crazy and I don’t know what to do with all these new, fabulous sensations that are wracking my body.
“Hmm?” he hums at me, his eyes lifting to meet mine. He lets my nipple go and says, “You taste like cotton candy.”
I laugh. It’s a throaty sound, and I’m surprised to hear it. “You’re so full of compliments.”
“A compliment would be if I told you I love your tits.” He palms my breasts and gives them a gentle squeeze. “A compliment would be telling you that your nipple against my tongue is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
His hands graze a lazy trail down my body.
“Can I wash you?” he asks.
“I guess.” I’m not too sure about that one.
“Like, all over?” He looks up at me, waiting for my response, his eyes dark and full of want.
I point down. “You mean like…all over?”
He pulls my face down to his and kisses me. “I want to lick your pussy. Can I?”
My heart trips a beat. “Why do you want to do that?”
He speaks into the side of my neck. “Because I want to see you come. I want to feel it. I want to watch it. I want to taste it. Can I?” He whispers the last and a tremor moves through me.
I close my eyes and put my weight on his chest. “Yes.”
“I’ll stop if you tell me to. Just say the word.” He sets me back a little. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
He lathers his hands up really quickly and grins at me. “I’m nervous,” he admits.
“It’s just a pussy,” I whisper.
“Scariest word in the English language, woman,” he says over a laugh. Then his soapy hand slips between my folds. He skims around and I go still as he cleans me up, and then his fin
ger drags across a sensitive spot. I freeze and wait a moment, then rock my hips, seeking more of the friction. “Like that, do you?”
“Lots,” I tell him. I kiss him and he keeps his hand busy, gently washing and rinsing me. This is the most intimate encounter I can imagine sharing with a man, and I haven’t even had sex with him. I’m not sure he’ll want to. I lay my forehead on his shoulder and let him rub around my clit. “That feels really good,” I say, breathless.
“Can I kiss it?” he asks. “Please?”
“How?” I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea. But I am. I am so entertaining it.
He pats my behind. “Sit on the edge of the tub.”
I scramble to do what he wants, because I’ve never felt these feelings and I don’t want them to go away. I’m completely naked and unashamed as I sit on the edge of the tub and wait for him to tell me what to do.
With one hand on the inside of each of my knees, he gently parts my legs, pushing them wide. I close my eyes and lean back against the wall, bracing myself with my palms on the edge of the tub. Josh kisses my inner thigh. Then he parts my lower lips with his thumbs and holds me open. “God, so pretty,” he breathes. Then he licks across my center. “Doesn’t taste like cotton candy,” he murmurs against me.
I jerk and try to close my legs. “What does it taste like?” I ask. He laughs and rubs my thighs, holding me open, gentling me.
“Heaven,” he murmurs against my heat.
I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. His tongue is wicked and warm and wild. He sucks my clit between his lips.
“Can I put my fingers inside you?”
I nod, but I don’t open my eyes.
“Star,” he says. He stops what he’s doing and my eyes fly open. “You okay?” he asks.
I nod frantically. Please don’t stop. I grab a handful of his hair and push him back toward my waiting warmth.
He chuckles and the hum of it brushes my lower lips. A finger slips inside me and I rock my hips and push down on my bottom, trying to get more of it inside me. He adds another finger and murmurs, “So tight.”
He sucks and licks and crooks his fingers, calling forth passion like I’ve never, ever felt. I never dreamed it could feel like this. His lips and teeth and tongue pull and lick and nibble, and his fingers rub a spot inside me that has me lifting to meet the thrusts of his fingers. “Josh!”
He lifts his head long enough to say “Come for me, Star,” then he starts to suck and lick and brings me…up…so…high…
I cry out when spasms wrack my body, and I grip his hair in my fist, holding him right where I want him, afraid that he’ll go away and take all the delicious pleasure with him. But he doesn’t go away. He stays with me, looking up at me from his spot between my legs, where his face is buried in my pussy, where he’s licking me into the first orgasm I’ve ever had. He holds my legs open wide with his shoulders and I rock my mouth against him, working it until I can’t stand any more. He must realize it, because he starts to slow, and then he stops. He sits back, pumps his fist in the air and cries, “Yes!”
But then he sobers when a hot tear rolls down my cheek. I can’t prevent it. I never, ever thought I would feel pleasure like that. I’d heard about it, but I thought that part of me died a long time ago. I’m overwhelmed and glad and scared and grateful and I don’t know how to tell him.
He doesn’t get freaked out. He grabs me and pulls me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder. “This is a good cry, right?” he asks, his voice tentative.
“Very good,” I say against his skin. He holds me tight. He doesn’t let me go.
“Whew!” He breathes out. “Just checking.” Tightly, he hugs me, stroking my back until I settle against him. “Hey, Star,” he says.
“Hey, Josh,” I reply.
“You just totally came on my face.”
I smile into his shoulder. “You won’t tell anybody, will you?”
“Holy fuck!” He sets me back a little. “I made you come like crazy and you expect me to keep it to myself?” He’s joking. I can hear it in his voice. He sobers. “I won’t say a word,” he tells me quietly. After a minute, he jostles me. “Besides, you were so loud that everyone in the fucking hotel heard you coming. I don’t need to keep it a secret.”
“I was not loud.”
“Oh, you were loud,” he tells me.
“That was amazing,” I breathe, as my heart slows. We’re wet and Josh is getting prune-y, but he just holds me. “Thank you.” I suddenly realize that he hasn’t gotten to come at all. I know he was hard beneath me, and I wiggle my bottom on top of him. He still is. “Your turn?” I ask.
“Not right now,” he says. He picks up a bottle of shampoo and holds it out to me. “Wash my hair?”
So I do. I wash his hair, and his back, and his front, and his feet. And he giggles when I spend a lot of time on his toes. “You know I can’t feel that, right?”
I stop. “Oh, yeah.” I go back up to his hands and start to massage them.
He unties his shorts and starts to shimmy them over his hips. But I think he’s just taking them off because doing it here in the water is easier.
His dick is still hard so I grab for it. He brushes my hand away. “Not tonight,” he says. He kisses me.
“Why not?”
“Tonight was for you.”
“Oh.” My heart thuds. “Okay.”
He smiles at me. “Want to watch a movie?”
I get out of the tub and wrap myself in a towel. “Sure.”
I leave him in the bathroom to get himself out. A few minutes later, he comes out with a towel wrapped around him. He dries his hair with another. “That was the best bath I ever had.” He laughs.
I put on a pair of pajamas and he puts on some sleep pants. But he doesn’t put on a shirt. He sits on the bed, resting against the headboard. His chest is covered in tattoo ink, and I want to trace the lines of each tattoo and hear the story behind each one. He pats his lap and I lay down across him with my head on his legs. I roll onto my back. He lifts the edge of my shirt and lays his hand on my belly.
“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” The words tumble over my lips and I regret them immediately, but they’re what’s in my heart.
His face gets hard. “Hold your praise until tomorrow. You might not think that after you meet my past.” He studies the TV hard. I cover his hand on my belly with mine and he smiles down at me for a quick second.
No matter what happens tomorrow, I’ll always be thankful for what he gave me tonight.
Josh
“Are you sure you want to go with me?” I ask her. She’s standing at the bathroom sink putting on her makeup.
She looks at me in the mirror. “Unless you don’t want me to.” Her eyebrows rise in question.
“No, no,” I protest. I don’t want to go in there alone. I’m afraid. More afraid than I have ever been. “I want you to go.”
She smiles at me. “Then I’m going.” She purses her lips in the mirror, applies lip gloss, and blows me a kiss across the palm of her hand. My heart squeezes in my chest. That’s such a normal thing to do. Like a boyfriend and girlfriend kind of thing. But we’re not. Sure, she came on my face last night, but that doesn’t imply in any way that she’s in this for the long haul.
“What should I expect today?” she asks as she walks across the room and picks up her purse.
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen Lilly since right after the accident.”
She stops cold. “You never came back after she woke up?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Oh,” she breathes. “Well, you’re here now.”
I am. And I’m abso-fucking-lutely terrified to see her.
***
We enter the long driveway and I drive really slowly, taking in the scenery, because there’s a small part of me that feels like this is home. I spent as much time here as I did at my own house when Lilly and I were growing up. We slept in a tent in her yard
on warm summer nights. And we spent nights in sleeping bags on her playroom floor. This feels even more like home than my own house would, if I were to be welcome there for a visit.
I put the car in park, and Star reaches over and squeezes my knee. I can’t feel it, but I don’t tell her that. “You got this,” she tells me, like she’s putting me in a football game.
“What if she hates me?”
“What if she doesn’t?”
I slide into my chair and then I see Lilly’s mother standing on the porch. She’s put on some weight, but she still looks the same even with her silver hair and her wider waistline. I freeze. I don’t know what to do or say.
“Josh,” Lilly’s mom gushes as she suddenly runs down the steps to meet me. She bends at the waist and embraces me, and it feels good. Really good. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad you called.” I am. I am. I am. If I say that enough, I’ll believe it. “How’s Lilly?”
She shrugs and avoids my eyes. “About the same.”
“Can I see her?”
She nods. “Let’s go to the kitchen and have some cookies first, shall we?”
Star coughs into her closed fist and I realize that I haven’t introduced her. “Mrs. Jameson, this is my good friend Star. I conned her into driving all the way down with me.”
Mrs. Jameson pulls Star into an embrace.
“You have a lovely home,” Star says.
“Oh, this old thing…” Mrs. Jameson says, but her cheeks flush and I can tell she’s pleased.
She motions for us to follow her and I see that there’s a wheelchair ramp that leads to the kitchen door and I’m grateful. “For Lilly’s chair,” she explains.
Right. The chair she needs because I drove drunk.
She lets us inside and Star looks around the kitchen. She stares at the pictures on the walls and stops at one of me and Lilly. “Is this you?” she asks over her shoulder.
“Yes.” That’s me. Before I did what I did and had to pay the consequences. Before the chair. Before Lilly’s injury. Before my life changed.
“You were a skinny boy,” Star says with a laugh.
“All arms and legs, that one.” Mrs. Jameson waves a hand at me. “Always was.” She touches the top of my head and I stiffen, because the contact is so foreign.
Good Girl Gone Page 9
