The Possibility of Perfect (A Stand By Me Novel Book 4)

by Brinda Berry

  “This get you hot?” I knead gently on the back of her neck. My dick strains against my swim trunks.

  “Of course it feels good. If I weren’t so horny, I might able to resist you. But it’s like you know exactly what gets to me.”

  At her words, I freeze and all the blood leaves my brain to migrate south.

  My hands trace her down-down-down her body. I stop them at the brink of her inner thighs. “You say the word, and I’ll get out of this chair and dunk myself in that cold, pool water. It’s all up to you.”

  She hesitates, then moans. “No, don’t stop.”

  Three words have never been sweeter. “Let’s make sure I cover all the important parts of you. Do you like this?” I ask, allowing my hands to travel between her thighs and over the tops in some mad pretense of smoothing sunscreen.

  "You know I do,” she says with a degree of animosity.

  I nuzzle her ear, tracing the shell of her ear with the tip of my tongue. Giving her a tiny nibble.

  Summer sun beats down on us. My fingers return to the insides of her thighs and linger at the juncture between them. “Tell me what you want.”

  Her shallow breathing is an aphrodisiac to my ears. “That. Feels. So. Good.”

  “You want more than this?”

  “More,” she purrs.

  I suck lightly on the back of her neck and rub my hand along the smooth, smooth skin of her inner thighs. She’s velvet and heat and ecstasy. “Does this feel as good to you as it does to me?"

  A tiny whimper escaped her throat. “It's better. Everything is always more with you.”

  Her words shoot me straight in the heart. This girl, not shy about telling me how she feels, puts me to shame that I’ve waited so long to be honest. Waited so very long to enjoy the woman she is.

  “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? Always. Always.” I trace one finger the few inches it takes to push aside her bikini bottom and slip inside. She’s wet for me. I stroke one finger between her lips and skate across her sensitive nub. She jerks and moans.

  My other hand moves up to cup one breast and she squirms to push against my hand. With my other hand, I press her into my chest, against my straining cock, and whisper against her neck. “I dream about this. I dream about every part of your body.”

  “That feels so good.” Josie presses her pussy against my hand. Fuck.

  I slide my fingers up and down, hitting her nub on the upstroke. “You know what makes me hard?”

  “No,” she answers. “No, I don’t.”

  She wants to know. She wants to hear me say it.

  “Your sleepy, sex voice on the telephone late at night. That makes me hard. The way you walk with a little sway in your hips when you have on high heels. That makes me hard. The way you get excited over a book…hard.” A lick along the back of her neck, summoning a whimper from her lips. Then I circle that sweet spot between her legs, so ready for her to beg for more. I add another finger. She moans, that sounds so deep and wanton that I’ll be jacking off to that for weeks.

  I’m so glad I asked her doc about sex when she was having that blood work done. This woman is mine and I’m going to make her want me more than she’s wanted anyone in her life. One teasing stroke at a time.

  “Lie back baby,” I say. “Spread your legs. Relax. I’m going to make you come.” The rhythm of my fingers drumming against her clit elicits erotic whimpers from her. I slip a finger inside and earn a groan.

  “Oh Dane,” she manages in a hoarse whisper.

  “If I had my way, I’d wake you every morning just like this.” I slide two fingers quickly in and out of her. “I'd make you come so hard that it would be on your mind all day.”

  I focus on the way she grinds against me, the places where my fingers elicit the most response, the building pressure she gives away with her unsteady breathing.

  “You deserve this, Butterfly. You deserve to be fucked by my hand, my tongue, my cock. Don’t you? Be a good girl and come for me.”

  She grabs my forearms and her fingernails dig into my flesh.

  A second of insanity takes me and I consider stripping her naked and plopping her on my cock—the part of me that begs to be in charge. Let her slide up and down until we both release. And then I remember I’m doing it for her, not for me.

  “I want you to have everything you deserve. You want my tongue between your legs?”

  On the last question, she reaches back and threads fingers through my hair. “I can’t wait.”

  Her hips jerked wildly and she grounds out something low and guttural. I pump into her with two fingers and rub my palm against that perfect juncture of her body where heaven meets earth. The tide of her orgasm crashes wave after wave through her, until she stills.

  The sun is damn hot now—or maybe it’s the fire we’ve created between the two of us. Our bodies are slick and sticky from the combination of body heat and sunscreen lotion. My cock is weeping, but my heart is happy.

  She’s silent for minutes and I don’t rush her to move. A plane streaks across the sky and I’m reminded of what she said about her dad. “We were meant to be together. Give me a chance to prove it. Tell me you want what I have to offer.”

  “We can try,” she says.

  I pull her onto my lap and smooth away the wet tendrils of hair across her eyes. “You won’t be sorry. I can give you everything.”

  “Less talking, now…please.”

  I chuckle before crashing my lips onto hers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Baby Shower

  Dane

  Leo and I are tasked with picking up Grandma Lulu for the baby shower. The woman is Josie’s great aunt rather than her true grandmother and has given up her driver’s license due to health reasons. Leo and I wait patiently as she follows us outside the retirement home toward the parking area.

  Leo runs ahead to get the car so he can pull into the circle drive.

  Grandma Lulu maneuvers her silver walker off the sidewalk and her arms jerk unsteadily. I grab her elbow. “Careful,” I say.

  “Boy, I’m careful all the time—brittle bones are dangerous business,” she replies with a surprising amount of sass.

  I release her elbow when she seems steady. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

  “Josie tells me that you’re in the booze business,” she says.

  “Uh…you could call it that. I run a family business—a bar and restaurant downtown called Dastardly Bastards.”

  “Like I said, you sell booze. It’s not like you’re the milkman.”

  Noted. Am I being chastised? Maybe the old lady is very religious, and I’m the devil who impregnated her great-niece and sells spirits to sinners.

  Leo pulls his car to the middle of the circle drive, and I step forward to open Grandma Lulu’s door. “There’s nothing better than a strong Bloody Mary at brunch. You ever have one of those?” she asks.

  I grin. “Once or twice. I’ll be sure to remember to make you one sometime.”

  Grandma Lulu lets me help her into the back seat. I offered the front, but she insisted that she liked to be chauffeured. Leo pops the trunk so I can store the walker. I get into the car and we head to the baby shower being held at Josie’s house.

  “Are we having drinks at this shower?” she says from the back.

  Leo breaks his attention from the road. “Lulu. Have you ever attended a baby shower that served alcohol? I don’t think so.”

  “I’ve never been to a shower like this one. Why isn’t it at your and Harper’s house since she’s the hostess?”

  Leo gives me a side look. “How do I know this is a loaded question?” Then he says in the general direction of the back seat. “You know Harper lives in the apartment across the hall from me. It’s not big enough for a shower.”

  “Oh, yes,” Grandma Lulu answers. “If you’d marry that girl and buy her a house, she wouldn’t have to hold parties at other places.”

  “Josie doesn’t mind. It’s easier on her if it’s
at her house,” I say in an attempt to speak up for my buddy.

  “And you…” she says, punctuated by a long sigh at the end. “You’re a looker. I see what happened here. But I’m watching you.”

  I turn my head and make eye contact. “I’m glad to know somebody cares about Josie as much as I do.”

  “Good answer,” Grandma Lulu nods. “You and I will get along just fine.”

  We arrive at Josie’s house. Grandma Lulu allows me to help her from the car to the house, all the while lecturing me on things I should know about Josie.

  I guess she doesn’t realize I’ve known Josie all my life.

  As soon as we step inside, Josie runs toward her great aunt. “Grandma Lulu! I’ve missed you.”

  The old lady pinches her cheek like she’s five. “And I’ve missed you. Ever since I took up that line dancing class, I just don’t have much extra time.”

  Leo shakes his head. “I believe it’s the line dancing partner who is monopolizing her.”

  “Don’t be a smart-mouth,” Grandma Lulu scolds.

  After five minutes in the room with all the ladies, I fully comprehend the reason men don’t attend baby showers. I have nothing to do with my hands. No one hands me a cold beer. There isn’t a football game on the television, therefore, no high-fives on touchdowns. There’s a little too much talking and hugging for my taste.

  Leo leans over so he can whisper. “I think this is enough of an appearance. No booze at this party, but there’s cookies and punch in the kitchen.”

  We leave the party area without anyone noticing. In the kitchen at one end of the table, there’s a large sheet cake decorated with yellow baby booties and an accompanying rattle. Beside the cake, there’s a silver dish of mixed nuts, cookies, and large crystal punch bowl. Leo and I grab two plates and begin piling on some dessert.

  “What are you two doing?” Harper says, sneaking up behind us. I turn to see her with folded arms and a suspicious gleam in her eyes.

  Leo gives her a slow smile. “Hey there, babe. We’re just gonna grab some stuff before we go out back.”

  She takes another step forward, eyeing our plates. “You guys don’t have to leave. Grandma Lulu probably thought we didn’t want you in there, but it’s totally acceptable for the father and uncle to hang around at a shower.”

  I glance longingly out to the back deck. Josie told me she’d love for me to show up. And of course I came out to keep Leo company and well… At the time, I didn’t know there’d be so many women sitting around and I’d feel like a sheep at a wolves convention. Now, I understand why Leo complained about hanging around to wait while Grandma Lulu attended. “If you think Josie wants me in there…”

  Leo strolls over and kisses Harper’s cheek. “We’re not going anywhere but out back. We don’t want to put a damper on things by asking too many questions about how a breast pump works and why a baby needs a monitor.”

  Her lips twitch. “You’re a riot. Okay. Go.”

  The doorbell rings and Harper turns to walk to the front of the house. I hear Ellen’s distinct voice from the foyer area. She gives an excuse for being late and then introductions are being made.

  Laughter and talking—all good signs that I worried too much about Ellen’s invitation. She’s fitting in after all. “Let’s slip out back,” I say.

  I want the focus on Josie and this day. Plus if Ellen sees me, she may not feel the need to talk to the women. I want that for her.

  On the back patio, Leo and I eat cake and watch a squirrel clamor around the base of a tree. It’s relaxing at Josie’s. The house is at the end of a cul-de-sac in a nice neighborhood. There are no sounds of cars passing and the nearest neighbor lives an acre away.

  “Harper tells me you guys don't want to know the sex of the baby,” Leo says.

  “That's right.”

  “She also says that you two are together now.”

  I set the empty paper plate on the ground by my feet. Holding my hand over my middle, I lean back and relax into my chair. “That’s right.” The corner of my lips kick up, because it’s hard to say it without a giddy rush of relief running through me.

  Leo takes his time finishing the cake, scraping every last bit of frosting onto his fork. “That all you’re going to say about it?”

  It dawns on me that my friend asks me the questions instead of asking Josie. This is a switch from how things normally go with Josie and her brother. “I figure she’ll tell you what she wants you to know.”

  “That’s exactly what has me worried," he says. “You know Josie and I used to talk all the time. Over the years I've learned that we don’t have a lot of boundaries. She may not even know the meaning of over-sharing when it comes to me. But since this thing between the two of you… She’s held everything close to the chest.”

  Thinking about this for a moment, I can't determine if it’s good or bad. It also makes me paranoid as to the reason she’s not talking about me with her twin. My stomach clenches around the thought-provoking conversation and junk food. “Hell, we gonna sit back here and get all deep and introspective? I’d rather go inside and talk about baby quilts and pacifiers.”

  A loud thump from within the house draws my attention. Leo's head jerks back to look over his shoulder as well. He turns around and our eyes meet.

  With a raised eyebrow, he mutters, “Didn’t know baby showers got so wild.”

  A funny feeling whirls in my gut, something akin to premonition. The shower started minutes ago and was fine until Ellen arrived.

  My gut instinct gnaws at me about the racket, connecting it with Ellen like a damn dot-to-dot drawing a picture of something wrong.

  “I think I'll go check on things.” I rise slowly, telling myself it's better to stay calm. It’s probably nothing.

  He grins at me. “Man, don’t look so worried. I’m sure they dropped one of those gift bags. Those strollers and baby gadgets are heavy and people bag them now instead of wrapping them.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to help out. I’ll be back in a minute.” Asking Ellen to the shower meant trouble. Bad things seem to follow Ellen around, nipping at her heels. But I thought it was important to Josie, so I gave her info for the invitation.

  Wrong move.

  Raised voices meet me at the back doors. It may not be the bar, but it’s a familiar sound I know well from working in a place where things can go volatile in an instant. The tone of a pissed off woman is unmistakable. Pushing the French doors open, I let myself in. I don't have to go far to see that something has gone wrong. Shower cake sits in a heap on the floor, unrecognizable if I didn’t know the color of yellow and mint icing. Ellen stands looking guilty at the edge of the table. Mom is already bustling to the sink to grab a wet cloth. I’m thankful that Josie isn’t in the room.

  “She did it on purpose, Dane.” Mom’s voice shakes with anger. “She’s not a child. A grown woman doesn't knock a cake to the floor accidentally.”

  “I didn’t do any such thing on purpose,” Ellen rants, her voice an octave higher than Mom’s. "These girls don't know how to do things and placed it too close to the edge. They wanted me to knock it off.”

  “You have got to be kidding…” Mom whirls from the sink and narrows angry eyes at Ellen. “You listen—”

  “Mom.” It’s wrong to call her out first, but she’s the sane one of the two, the one who’ll be able to walk away without turning this into more of a disaster.

  Leave it to Ellen to make my mild-mannered mother look murderous. It’s not as if a ruined cake is the end of the world, but holy-fucking-hell. I glance up to see Josie standing in the doorway with a worried expression.

  I immediately cross the room, past Mom, past Ellen. “Go back in there, Butterfly. I’ll help clean this up. You enjoy the shower.”

  “Cece,” Josie says. “It’s not a big deal.”

  But Mom isn’t having anybody calm her down. It’s puzzling. I know that Mom doesn’t like Ellen. I also know how protective she is of Josie.

 
But doesn’t she get that Ellen’s mental receiver is off the hook? I’m pissed, but the situation needs someone to stay calm and it’s going to be me. I walk the few steps to stand next to Mom.

  “Mom, please go with Josie back to the baby shower. Ellen will help me clean this up. It’s all right. Go on.” I brace my hands on Mom's shoulders and rub. “Please."

  Mom gives Ellen one last cold stare before she wipes her hand on the rag and strides toward Josie. The minute they’re gone, I exhale.

  “Your mama hates me." Ellen wrings her hands in front of her stomach. “I came in here to look at the cake. That’s all. I wanted to put my present with the rest of those. It fell off the edge. I never even touched it.” Ellen gives me a worried look. “Are you mad at me now? Do you take her word over mine? She’s probably in there right now telling Josie stories about me.”

  “Accidents happen. I’ll get this. Maybe you should go wash up.” I nod toward her hands, covered in the damned icing. Hands that obviously did more than place a gift near the cake.

  “I need to leave. I’m not wanted here.” Ellen places her hands behind her back, leaving a smear of icing on her shirt.

  "The bathroom is down the hall. First door on the left. Wash your hands. You and I can run out and get a cake from the bakery. Okay? There's a grocery store not even a mile down the road. We’ll make this right.”

  “I don't know why everybody hates me. I want to be that baby’s grandma. But everybody hates me. Cece especially. That woman—”

  “Not one word about my mother.” My tone is harsh and final.

  What is the problem between these two? Negative talk is something I'm used to with Ellen. And the more you argue with her, the more adamant she becomes that you're part of the problem.

  But Mom has always shown grace to people less fortunate than she is.

  Ellen’s mouth flattens into an angry straight slash. She disappears around the corner, and I shake my head. She probably did knock it off on purpose.

  Today—because I didn’t have the sense to insist that Ellen lives in a separate part of my life—the shower is probably ruined. Josie’s listened to my Ellen stories. Now she has one of her own.