Rumor Has It

by Cindi Myers

  “Right now, I want you.” She leaned in to kiss him, her lips demanding, claiming him. She slid her arms around his neck and he gathered her close, their bodies shaped to each other from shoulder to hip. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, his touch strong and sure, and hooked a thumb beneath the waistband of her panties. The movement sent a tremor through her, like the first warning before an earthquake.

  She arched toward him, a delicious edge of desire sharpening every nerve. She felt bold and daring, willing to do anything, risk everything. All the fears and insecurities she’d battled had melted away, replaced by a joy that bubbled up inside of her like laughter.

  Dylan buried his nose in her neck and she felt the curve of his smile pressed against her collarbone. “Now, where were we, before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  She wriggled against him, and slipped her hand beneath the placket of his shirt. “I seem to recall buttons being unbuttoned and zippers unzipped.”

  “Like this?” He undid the first button of her shirt, and then the second, following after his fingers with his tongue.

  “Y-yes.” She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, savoring the rush of sensation as he planted tender kisses on each inch of newly exposed skin.

  “Do you think Pete’s still out there, watching?”

  The question reverberated against her chest, setting up an answering quiver in her stomach. She clung to him more tightly, riding the sensation. “Wh-what if he is?”

  He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes, his gaze searching, demanding to know her inmost secrets. “Have you ever fantasized about someone watching?”

  She wanted to look away, to hide from his probing gaze, but she had promised herself the truth this time. “Sometimes. No one in particular, but…” She slid her hand up under his shirt, the tips of her fingernails scratching lightly at his chest, then moving over to draw lazy circles around his nipples. “Doesn’t it excite you, to think someone could get turned on just watching you?”

  A heated smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe they’re jealous.”

  She wet her lips. “They should be. I would be, I think. Aren’t you glad we’re us? Getting to enjoy this now?”

  “Then let them watch.” He pushed her blouse back over her shoulder and undid the clasp of her bra, pushing it out of the way to reveal her breasts.

  Dylan would readily admit he was a breast man. Let others admire long legs or tight asses—he always zeroed in on a woman’s chest. No matter the size or shape, the cream and rose perfection of a woman’s soft curves never failed to move him.

  As the sight of Taylor’s naked breasts moved him now. Moonlight made her skin shine like old ivory and cast her nipples into dusky shadow. He cradled her in his hands, feeling the pebbled tips rise up against his palms. She arched against him, silently pleading for more. And he wanted more. So much more. But not yet. They had time now to make the pleasure last.

  He traced his tongue over each aroused tip, making lazy circles that flicked around and across that sensitive center, slow strokes building until her breath came in hard pants. His hands shook as he smoothed her stomach and her thighs, moved by how much she wanted him. By how much he wanted her.

  He raised up on his elbows and started to push her skirt above her waist, but her hands stopped him. “Let me take this off,” she said.

  “You’re not worried someone might come along and see?”

  She smiled, a teasing curve of her lips. “What if they do? Don’t you want to see?”

  The words sent lust shuddering through him and it was all he could do not to rip the clothes from her as he helped her find her way out of skirt, blouse and underwear. Then she helped him do the same. It was awkward and a little ridiculous with much knocking of elbows, tangling of arms and a few muttered curses. But it was also surprisingly intimate—undressing with and for one another, working together toward their anticipated pleasure.

  When they were finally naked, he pulled her to him again, covering her with his body as she lay the length of the truck’s bench seat. Her skin was heated, smelling of spices and musk, exotic and yet so familiar, a scent he had carried in his mind for years without even knowing what it represented.

  He stroked his hands down her body, looking into her eyes as he did so, watching her desire for him build. She met and held his gaze, baring all of herself to his scrutiny. His heart pounded, captivated. This was the Taylor he first knew—the brash, exotic girl who breezed into town like a tropical storm and turned his life upside down.

  Only this version had matured from girl to woman. A woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. A woman willing to experiment, to take risks. And he was the man she wanted to risk with.

  “I don’t want to wait any longer,” she whispered.

  He nodded and reached past her head to the glove compartment where he’d stashed the packet of condoms. She smiled in amusement. “Did you carry those around when you were in school?”

  He laughed. “Not hardly. One of my little sisters was likely to pop open the glove box and find them. I’d have been mortified.” He tore open the packet and raised up to sheath himself.

  “I guess you don’t have to worry about that now.”

  “Right now, I’m not worrying about anything.” Except making this the best for them both that he could. Somehow, with Taylor, that seemed the easiest thing in the world to do.

  He stretched himself alongside her once more and slid a finger inside her, her wet heat closing around him, tight and beckoning. He moved slowly, deliberately, fighting the urge to hurry. Her eyes glazed and her face went lax. He felt himself twitch, anxious to be in her, surrounded by her, but he forced himself to wait.

  He suckled her breast again, her skin satin against his cheek. The tension in them both was building, muscles tightening, hearts pounding, breath coming in gasps. He cradled her head against his shoulder, silently urging her on, shaking with the force of his own desire.

  She convulsed around him, the tremor of her climax rocking him. With a groan, he pressed her back against the seat and leveled himself over her. He plunged into her with the impatience of a boy, abandoning himself to desire, his climax building with each thrust. She arched against him, matching his rhythm, the slick warmth of her tightening around him, holding him, until he exploded in a white heat that left him breathless and blind, clinging to her.

  They lay together for a long while, his head against her breast, the only sounds their slowing breathing and the ping of the truck engine cooling in the night air. Taylor brought her hand up to stroke his hair, the gesture strangely comforting. “We’d better get dressed,” she said after a while. “We both have to work tomorrow.”

  He closed his eyes against the words. He didn’t like being reminded that they had to return to the real world now, a world where making out in pickup trucks was considered irresponsible behavior and where gossips entertained each other with the latest scandals.

  He sat up and reached for the pile of clothes they’d discarded on the floorboard, sorting through it to find his pants and her shirt. As he worked, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her face was calm, her expression unreadable. What was she thinking?

  She’d said she didn’t mind what people said about her, but dammit, he minded. He tugged on his underwear, scraping his knee against the dash as he did so and biting back a grunt of pain. If he heard one word against her this next week, he was liable to punch the guilty party in the mouth and walk away.

  Neither spoke as they dressed, their movements even more awkward now. He lent her his handkerchief to clean herself and avoided watching her. She kept her gaze averted, as well. Because she was embarrassed?

  He wasn’t ashamed of what they’d done, but the power of the moment had left him shaken, unsure of himself and what he ought to say or do, how he ought to act. What did it mean that a casual encounter—an attempt to re-create a high school make-out session—had left him with this feeling
of both completeness and loss?

  For a moment he thought he’d felt something special with Taylor, something meaningful. And then the feeling had fled. These moments they had together were pure fantasy, meant to stay that way. Taylor was going away at the end of the year and he had a life to rebuild here. They could have fun while they were together, but that was all that could ever be between them.

  Part of him had known that even when they were in school. Maybe that was the reason he’d never acted on his feelings for her. He was a common country boy, with roots deep in the hardscrabble earth, while Taylor was an elusive butterfly, meant for bigger and better things. Any fool could see that combination would never work.

  Better to enjoy her while he could and then let her go when he had to. At least one day he’d have these moments to look back on and smile about. Not many people could say they’d been that lucky, could they?

  6

  IF TAYLOR HAD ANY DOUBTS about whether or not word had gotten around about her and Dylan’s encounter with Pete Alavero up on Inspiration Point, they were dispelled as soon as she walked into the teachers’ work room the next morning.

  “Seen any inspiring sights lately, Taylor?” Grady asked as she passed him on the way to the coffeepot.

  Mindy greeted her and tore the end off a packet of artificial sweetener. “Don’t mind Grady. He never makes sense before his third cup—if then.”

  “I learned not to pay any attention to Grady a long time ago.” Taylor took her mug from its hook on the wall and reached for the carafe of coffee. After her incredible evening with Dylan, she’d awakened feeling much too good for anything anyone said to bother her—least of all Grady Murphy.

  He smirked at her over the edge of his cup. “Somebody told me you and Dylan Gates were doing a little sightseeing up on Inspiration Point last night. Just like old times.”

  Mindy choked on a mouthful of coffee. Coughing, she grabbed a napkin and blotted a spreading coffee spill. “Inspiration Point?” She gaped at Taylor. “That old make-out place? You went there—with Dylan?”

  Taylor leaned back against the counter, cradling her cup. “That’s what they say.” She smiled, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with coffee and everything to do with the memory of those magical moments in the front seat of Dylan’s truck. “Of course, I’ll never tell.”

  Grady looked smug. “Pete Alavero works out at my gym and he told me himself that he caught you and Dylan up there last night.”

  “Pete told you that?” She shook her head. “It’s amazing to me, the things people think are newsworthy.” She winked at Mindy.

  Mindy grinned. “It’s amazing to me how you’ll believe anything you hear, Grady. Why would Taylor and Dylan be up at Inspiration Point when they’ve both got perfectly comfortable houses?”

  Grady’s coffee cup rattled against the table as he set it down. “You’d better ask Taylor that question, not me. All I know is Pete said he caught them up there, making out like a couple of kids.” He waved at Taylor. “You’re not even denying it, are you?”

  She took the seat across from him and pretended to riffle through a folder of student papers, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “I guess I don’t see what difference it makes one way or another whether I was up there or not.”

  Her seeming disinterest obviously took Grady by surprise. His mouth dropped open, then he closed it. His eyebrows rose, and his shoulders followed as if hoisted by invisible ropes. He stuck his nose in the air. “Some people might consider it shameful for a teacher to be conducting herself that way in public.”

  “Conducting myself what way?” She leaned toward him, struggling to keep her expression earnest, enjoying watching a bully who couldn’t convince his victim she was being bullied. “And what exactly is so public about Inspiration Point?”

  Grady frowned. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Taylor. You’d do well not to act like one.”

  When I was a teenager I never acted the way I did last night, she thought. I wouldn’t have known how. She shook her head and took another sip of coffee. “Don’t lose any sleep over my reputation, Grady. I certainly won’t.”

  Mindy joined them at the table and gave their tormentor a pitying look. “I think Grady’s jealous. He can’t get anybody to go up to Inspiration Point with him.”

  He made a huffing sound. “The women I date wouldn’t be interested in something like that.”

  Mindy nodded at Taylor. “What did I tell you? He’s jealous.”

  Taylor sipped her coffee and ignored their bickering. Maybe she ought to be more embarrassed about her and Dylan’s affair being played out in the public eye, so to speak. But how could she be sorry about something so magical? The night had turned out like nothing she had imagined—and everything she had hoped for. With her skin still warmed by the memory of Dylan’s touch and the shape of his body still imprinted on her limbs, she had no room in her mind for others’ concerns.

  The door opened and the room fell silent as Clay Walsh walked in. “Good morning, everyone.”

  “Good morning, Clay,” they chorused. Taylor and Mindy exchanged glances. Taylor gave her friend what she hoped was an encouraging look. Honestly, if Mindy would only let Clay know how she felt—

  “Taylor, I need to talk to you when you have a chance.”

  Clay’s words sent her heart rushing straight to her throat. Had he heard the gossip about her and Dylan? It was one thing to ignore what people said or thought about her, but if it affected her job— She swallowed hard and stared at him. “Y-you do?”

  “When you have a chance.” He topped off his cup and selected a doughnut from a box on the counter. “Did you have a nice evening?”

  She was saved from having to answer by an outburst of coughing from Grady. While he groped for a napkin and Mindy pounded his back, Taylor studied Clay. His expression was innocent, showing only polite interest. Either he didn’t know about the latest gossip or he was deliberately ignoring it. Clay had always been a fair man, treating every student and teacher with respect and consideration. If he was a little reserved sometimes, maybe it was because he felt he had to be.

  “I had a nice evening.” A very nice evening. She closed her file folder and sat up straighter. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “We need to get together and discuss possible candidates to take over your classes when you leave us at the end of the semester.” He gestured toward her with his cup. “I hope you know, you’re going to be hard to replace.”

  She flushed at this praise and looked away. Strange how she’d forgotten all about Oxford for a little while. Or about anything else that had to do with real life. Living a fantasy could do that to a person, she guessed.

  “I’ve been trying to talk her into staying,” Mindy said. “But she won’t listen to me.”

  Clay moved to stand beside Mindy. “Maybe that’s a joint project you and I should work on.”

  Taylor left the two of them making goo-goo eyes at each other and headed for her classroom. Honestly, how could two supposedly smart adults not see what was right in front of their noses? Mindy and Clay were perfect for each other. So what if they were a few years apart in age and a few thousand dollars apart in salary? Didn’t differences spice things up a little?

  At her classroom door, she almost collided with Patrice Miller. “Hello, Ms. Reed. Did you have a nice night?” Patrice asked.

  Why was everyone so concerned about her night? What did her nights matter to anyone but her?

  But Patrice’s bland expression told her the girl was only being polite. She relaxed and smiled. “I had a nice time. Thank you.”

  “It was funny seeing you at Danny’s.” Patrice blushed. “I mean, not funny really, just…well, I’m not used to seeing my teachers out on dates.”

  “What teacher was on a date?” Jessica joined them at the door.

  “Ms. Reed was out last night with a really hot guy.” Patrice glanced at Taylor and her face reddened farther. “
I mean, he was nice-looking and everything. For a guy that age.”

  Taylor covered her laughter with a cough. Wait until she passed that assessment on to Dylan.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Jessica’s eyes looked as big as dollar coins. “What’s his name? Is he from here? How did you meet him?”

  The first bell rang, providing Taylor with a convenient escape. “You’d better get to your seats, girls. It’s almost time to get started.”

  “We’re not being nosy, Ms. Reed,” Patrice said. “We’re just really interested.” She glanced around her, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “And he really is cute.”

  Taylor followed the girls into the room. “I’m sure the details of my personal life would bore you all into a coma within five minutes.”

  “It couldn’t be any worse than studying English,” Jessica said.

  By the time the laughter faded, Taylor had pulled a single sheet of paper from the stack on her desk and stood by the blackboard. “Today, we need to decide on a book to study for the rest of the semester. Until Christmas break, the majority of our class activities will revolve around this book. I have a list of suggestions from the State Board of Education, but you’re welcome to give me your own ideas, as well.”

  “Something short,” a boy named Dale said.

  “Something with lots of pictures for Dale,” his friend Eli countered.

  “Let’s skip the book and go straight to the movie version,” Jessica said. “We can make a field trip to the video store to decide.”

  Taylor smiled, listening to the friendly bickering as she wrote the rest of the state-approved titles on the board. Then she stepped back so the class could read the list.

  “None of them sound very interesting.” Jessica worried her lower lip between her teeth.

  “I’ve already read most of them.” Patrice’s words were met with groans. She turned and gave her classmates a withering look. “Well I have.”

  “I think we should study A Ranger Remembers.”