He grinned. “Like hell you’re not.” I kissed his neck again, moving my hand up his thigh as he stopped at a red light. “Randi, you gotta stop this, or we’ll never make it. Unless you’re wanting a quick trip to the ER.”
“Okay. Fine.” Pouting, I squeezed his leg and sat up.
“Or we could just pull over on the side of the road. I’m sure the state patrol would love shining a light in here to find my white ass bobbing up and down while I’m givin’ it to you.” When I shook my head, he smirked and then grabbed me around the neck, kissing me before I sat back. When the light turned green, he sped off like he was in the Indy 500.
Ten minutes later, Justin rolled into the parking spot at his place and we raced up the stairs to his apartment. Well, not quite. My shoes wouldn’t allow me to run, but I was still quick on my feet, all things considered. After he slammed the door behind us, our lips crushed together, and I frantically tore at his shirt, unbuttoning it until he pulled it over his head. And right after, he was helping me pull that snug dress up and off, leaving me in the matching bra and panties I’d carefully chosen—not that he noticed, because his lips were immediately consuming mine again.
Then they were on my neck as I began fumbling with his belt. I hadn’t yet moved my hands down the front of his pants, but I knew even without that confirmation that he was ready. Probably only the first time we’d ever made love—if that was what you’d call it—had we pawed at each other with this intense lack of control.
Although I hadn’t begun unbuttoning his jeans, he scooped me up, still kissing me hard on the lips, to carry me to the couch. I could barely taste his tongue, my mouth still numbed from the alcohol, but my body was on fire, begging to feel him inside me. As he lay me on the cushions, I began working on the button and zipper of his jeans while he tugged at my panties. When I got his pants undone, I went straight for his cock, but he was testing the waters, so to speak, running his finger along my slit. As he rubbed up against my clit, I drew in a quick breath of air.
I was ready as well.
“Damn, Rascal.”
Had I not been so desperate, I might have laughed. I’d loved the nickname he’d given me long ago when I’d initiated our first kiss—not quite true, because he’d been teasing me all night long while tutoring me in algebra, but he’d let me make the first move. Maybe that was so I’d feel in control, but I’d never felt that way with this man, not one bit.
Soon, he guided himself in. Ah. But the temporary relief was overtaken by more need, and I tilted my pelvis for maximum pleasure, urging him to hit the spots that would take me to the top. During those few minutes of frantic copulation, the rest of my world was gone—my worries, my fears, all the horrible things I said to myself in my head day in, day out.
Even the emotions growing in my heart for this man on a minute-by-minute basis were floating in the background as his cock drove me to pleasure.
And we were so fucking loud, I wondered if his whole apartment building had heard us.
Afterward, I let out a long sigh, my body warm but satiated, and I started drifting off. “C’mon, Rascal.” He took me by the hand, leading me to his bedroom. As soon as I rested my head on the pillow, my eyes closed, and I felt him pull the covers up and over my shoulders. Forcing my eyes open again for just a second, I watched him pull off a boot and start to sit on the edge of the bed, but I finally gave in to deep, dark, dreamless sleep.
* * *
When I woke up, it was still dark in his bedroom, but I needed to pee. Walking through the shadows to the doorway of his bedroom, I had no idea the layout of the place, so once I was in the tiny hallway, I kept my hands on the wall, feeling for another door. Soon, my fingers brushed along the inner wall of another room until my hand touched a light switch.
That was the good thing about apartments: it was easy to find the bathroom.
After doing my business, I dabbed a little cool water on my flushed cheeks. I was still drunk and all I had on was my bra.
But I needed a cigarette.
Keeping the bathroom light so I could see better, I ventured into the living room and found my purse by the door. I knew I really should go outside to smoke, but the pressure I felt in my head told me to get my ass back in bed.
Nicotine first.
Making my way into the kitchen, I turned the light on and found the trashcan. If there was a tin can in there, it could serve as a decent makeshift ashtray, and I could open the window to blow smoke outside. Not the best plan, but it would do. I found a beer bottle and decided that would work as I lit a cigarette.
Oh, that first drag was always the sweetest, flipping some strange switch in my brain, giving me that jolt of satisfaction. And then my mind cleared and I began examining how exactly I’d arrived here.
Not at Justin’s apartment. In my heart.
When exactly had I started falling in love with that man? And why the fuck had I allowed it to happen in the first place? Justin was not a one-woman guy and had never pretended to be. Not once had he ever told me he was anything other than a friend.
With all the shit going on in my life, tonight had to be the last time. Not only because of Sarah, but also because my heart was going to crack if I didn’t stop right now. Breaking away at this moment would lead to the least amount of heartache.
So, in the morning, I’d say my last goodbye. After tonight, I was going to go back to being Randi Miller, single mother, assistant manager, and promising student.
After finishing the cigarette, I poured a little water in the bottle to extinguish the butt and then closed the window and shut off the light. I decided to shower, wake myself up, fight through this halfway drunk/ halfway hungover feeling, and suck it all up. Later, when Justin woke up, he could take me home and I’d begin my new life alone.
Making my way back to the beacon of the bathroom light, I found a small closet in the hallway—and, inside, as I’d hoped, there were bath towels.
Soon, I was in the warm shower, irritated by the low water pressure, remembering what apartment life was like. My little house might not have been anything exciting, but at least I didn’t have a stingy landlord refusing to fix shit that didn’t work. Now, when things fucked up, they stayed broken because I couldn’t afford to fix them. Ignoring the lack of pressure, I focused on the warm beads dropping on my skin, and I imagined myself standing in the rain in July—although the droplets from the clouds falling in Winchester were usually not so warm and not so gentle.
Still, my mind took me there and I let it—until I could hear Justin pissing in the toilet. How long had I been standing in here? His voice almost made me jump. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope.”
After he flushed the toilet, he pulled the shower curtain aside, peeking his head in. “Want some company?”
I forced a smile, trying not to give away the sorrow weighing down my heart. When he got inside, he pulled me close and I held him tightly, burying my head in his chest as the warm water trickled over my face.
God, I was going to miss this man.
Without thought, I began kissing his chest and it wasn’t long before he grew hard from the attention. So I moved my lips to his mouth and he gave me a long, luxurious kiss. “Why don’t we get the hell out of here?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
As we stood on the bathmat, Justin grabbed my towel, but he didn’t hand it to me. Instead, he began dabbing at my flesh. As he gently nudged the towel against my chest area, he moved it to the back but bent over, kissing between my breasts before lapping at one of my nipples. A tiny moan escaped my mouth as he moved the towel down my back before drying my ass. Then he moved the towel down the backs of my legs while continuing to kiss my breasts before dabbing the beads of water off my belly. My entire body was cool, goosebumps all over my skin, as each muscle tightened in anticipation.
As he dried off the front of my body, he then began touching his lips to my belly as he dried the front of my legs, the towel brushing my skin lightly e
nough to ramp up my desire.
Suddenly, he stood and rubbed his hair with the towel before dropping it to the floor and sweeping me up in his arms to carry me, Rhett Butler-style, to his bed.
Like before, he moved quickly and the remnants of alcohol were still making my brain fuzzy, so I couldn’t keep up—but I really didn’t need to. After laying me on the bed, he first kissed me hard on the lips, but soon he was moving down my body—touching me with his fingers and tongue. By the time his head wound up between my legs, I was buzzing and alive and more than ready. After a few flicks of his tongue against my clit, my muscles had started to quiver, my breathing deepening in anticipation. My throat started making noises just before my brain exploded in an orgasm, shooting a chemical sensation throughout my entire nervous system.
While I didn’t know for certain, I suspected I’d just experienced the most amazing orgasm of my lifetime.
But then my brain reminded me that this was the last time, even though my date didn’t know it—so I took a deep breath and then willed my muscles to move so I could straddle him. All I had to do was kiss him before sliding his cock into my pussy, and then I began rocking gently, determined to bring him to ecstasy on the slow path. My fingers circled his nipples and enjoyed the feel of his hard pecs underneath the palms of my hands as I gazed upon his handsome boyish face, trying to emblazon every feature in my mind.
Because this was our last time, I wanted it to mean something.
Sliding my hands into his so that our fingers intertwined, I hoped I looked sexy instead of sad. At that moment, as if he could read my thoughts, Justin opened his eyes. “Fuck.” Almost instantly, he closed them again as he came and he squeezed my hands, making the rings I wore dig into my fingers.
I tried to be happy, tried to relish this time together, made an attempt to be present, enjoying our time together while I still could. But afterward, I nestled my head against his chest as he drifted off to sleep, praying he couldn’t feel the warm tear that dropped off my nose onto his skin.
* * *
The next morning, my head thudding, I hunched on the carpet on my hands and knees in the living room with my dress from last night back on, looking under the couch for my other shoe—but it wasn’t there. Justin came in, wearing nothing but jeans. “Whatcha lookin’ for?”
Holding up the black pump, I said, “My other shoe.”
Justin glanced around the room and pointed. “There—on the end table.”
I sat up, butt resting on my heels. “The end table?”
“Yeah.” Leaning over, Justin picked it up and held it out to me. “You’re a wild woman, Rascal. I’m surprised it wasn’t actually in the lampshade.” With a grin, he started walking toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
“I’d love some. Thanks.” I set both shoes at the front door. Until it was time to leave, I didn’t want to put them on. Then I started trying to find my purse. After looking all over the living room and peeking in the bedroom, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Searching the living room again, I asked, “Do you happen to know where my purse is? In the refrigerator maybe?”
“I don’t think you brought it in with you. I think it’s in the truck. Want me to go check?”
“No. I can.” I started making my way back toward the front door.
“Hold on. Truck’s locked. Let me get you the keys.”
“Oh. If it’s locked, don’t worry about it. I’ll just get it when we go.” I started walking back toward the kitchen, ready to sit down. All this activity had made my head throb. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Justin grinned. “No, babe, I think I can make coffee all by my lonesome. Been doin’ it by myself since I was sixteen.” For an asshole, he was awfully cute. I stuck my tongue out at him. “Oh, no, darlin’. You wore me out last night. None of that for a little while anyway.” He turned around, opening a cabinet door.
As Justin set mismatched cups on the counter, I looked on the wall, trying to find a clock. “What time is it anyway?”
Turning around, he glanced behind me, squinting. “It is…almost eleven-thirty.”
“What?” As I twisted in my chair, I looked at the microwave clock. Eleven twenty-two precisely. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“I’ve got to pick up the kids from my parents’ house around one.”
“You got time for a cup of coffee, right?”
“A quick one.”
As he poured two cups, he said, “I can’t remember. You don’t like it black, do you?”
“White and sweet, please.”
“Just like you.” Grinning, he opened a cabinet door, pointing at two jars holding sugar and creamer. “Right there.” Then he picked up his cup and left the kitchen. “If you gotta leave soon, I need to get my contacts in. Be right back.”
I gazed at his back as he walked away, once again admiring the swirly black tattoo I’d memorized long ago. Then I got up and doctored my coffee, hoping Justin wouldn’t take long—because, now that our night of fun was over, the pressure was on again.
Thinking of pressure led me to thinking about my addiction, and cigarettes and coffee paired well. That was all it took for me to remember that I’d had a cigarette last night here in the kitchen—which meant my purse couldn’t possibly be in his truck.
So where the fuck had I put it?
It had to be in here, in the kitchen, so I got up and looked around, only to find it on the floor by the trashcan. Shit. I’d had way too much to drink. By the time Justin got back, I was halfway done with my coffee, and I was ready for a smoke.
“You can bring your cup with you if you want.”
“Nah, but thanks.” Even though it was still too warm, I guzzled it just the same, and I could feel the hot liquid making its way into my belly. I put the cup next to the sink and followed him toward the door, picking up my shoes before walking outside.
When we stepped outside, the light was bright and I squinted, so as soon as we were in his truck, I found my cheapie sunglasses tucked in my purse. Then I asked, “Mind if I smoke?”
“How many times you gonna ask me that?”
“Fine.” I lit a cigarette as he started up the truck, and then I found a stick of cinnamon gum in my purse, which was going to be my substitute for teeth brushing until I got home. “Want some?” I asked.
“No, thanks. Just brushed my teeth.”
“I didn’t have that luxury.” But the cigarette was helping soothe my fraught nerves, so I focused my attention there for the moment.
As he pulled out of his parking space, he said, “Let’s get you home.”
I glanced down at my knees, and my brain went to a depressing place almost immediately. The dress that had looked and felt so sexy last night felt like a slutty costume this morning—and I was about to experience a walk of shame. Fuck. Why had I thought this would be such a good idea? Fishing around my purse again, I found a scrunchie and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, hoping it would make me look more demure. Why was I so damned worried anyway? It wasn’t like my parents were going to be at my house when I arrived—and, besides, the only neighbor who paid any attention to what everyone else was doing in our section of town was Noreen, and that woman had a new man in her house with every change of season. And because my neighbor knew the first night Justin had spent the night with me and how often he came over, seeing me on a Sunday morning in a skimpy dress with him wouldn’t be a shock.
Why the hell did I care anyway? Just the same, I sat up, stretching my dress so that it got a little closer to my knees before taking another long drag on my cigarette.
By the time Justin dropped me off, it was close to noon. He walked me to my front door and kissed me oh, so sweetly, his hands cupping my face. Then he held me close to his chest so that I almost melted into him.
Did he sense that this was goodbye?
When he let go, he grinned at me, reminding me once more why I’d fallen so hard. “See ya later, Rascal.”
“Yeah.�
�� But probably not.
I watched him through the screen door as he drove off, pausing when I instead should have been getting ready. As soon as his truck was out of sight, though, I rushed to the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth and washing my face. Then I combed my hair, once more putting it into a ponytail, but one that was less disheveled. Wishing I had time for a shower, I tried misting body spray all over, but I wound up using what was left long before I was done. Good enough. Then I threw on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Very quickly, I put on a little eye makeup before sliding into sneakers and grabbing a Diet Coke from the fridge and another pack of smokes. Less than ten minutes later, I was in my car, racing through town toward the highway.
Unfortunately, the time by myself fucked with my head. While the remnants of body spray covered up the smell of Justin, it couldn’t make my flesh forget the way he felt any more than my tongue could stop remembering how he tasted. Maybe last night had been the shittiest idea ever, because my feelings for him had blossomed at a time when I needed to be alone. I wondered how I could go from the way I felt right now back to my regular partner-less existence to deal with the shambles of my life.
But I was about to discover just how fucking strong I really was.
Chapter Eleven
I pulled into my parents’ driveway mere minutes before one—and only because I’d broken the speed limit multiple times.
As I walked toward the front of the house, Devon peeked through the screen door. “Mom!” Dashing outside, he ran to me, wrapping his arms around my waist—reminding me that being a mother wasn’t all bad.
“Hey there, buddy. Did you have fun with grandma and grandpa?”
“Yeah.”
After I kissed him on the cheek, we entered the house together. As if she hadn’t moved since I’d left yesterday afternoon, Sarah was still slouched in the same chair in the living room. Immediately, I felt a surge of guilt course through my body. “Hey, sweetie. How are you?”
Sarah just shrugged her answer, so I kissed her on top of her head as my mother emerged from the kitchen. “We were going to go out to eat, but we’ll stay here instead. Your dad’s in the back barbecuing.” As I hugged my mother, I saw concern in her eyes—but she wasn’t about to spill the beans. “Why don’t you go tell him hi?” I nodded, unable to shake the feeling that I was being fed to the wolves. “Devon, I could use your help in the kitchen making the salad.”
Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5) Page 10
