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The Closer You Get (Fidelity #1)

Page 15

by Carter Ashby


  She gulped and looked up at him, slightly fearful. “Is this a…fantasy thing for you?”

  “No, Cora, honest. Just part of the experience.”

  “A high school date.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She bit her bottom lip and stared down into the bag. “What all does this date entail?”

  “I’m glad you asked. Pizza and a movie. At the theater, we sit in the back and make out.”

  “Explain what you mean by ‘make out.’”

  He squinted his eyes in thought. “There’s really no right or wrong answer to that question. It’s open to interpretation. But the way I figure it, with you, we’ll kiss a lot, and you’ll let me touch your breasts. Over your shirt, of course.”

  Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. Rye followed her eyes as she glanced over at Adam. Shit, was he still here? Yep. In fact, Adam was gawping in horror. “Cora, don’t go out with this guy. Please.”

  “Go home, Adam.”

  Adam shook his head. “No, Cash and I will come with you.”

  “I don’t need a parent right now. I need a friend and if you can’t be a friend, then just go.”

  Adam’s face turned red. He shook his head slowly and sat back down. “I’ll stay here. I’ll wait up for you.”

  Cora huffed and rolled her eyes. When she turned back to Rye, her demeanor was more confident. “I’ll go put this on,” she said.

  He grinned and watched her walk down the hallway.

  Cora couldn’t stop smiling as she changed clothes. The cheerleader uniform somehow fit. Rye had even bought matching socks. She put on some sneakers and looked at herself in the mirror.

  “Ridiculous,” she muttered. “You look ridiculous.” Still, she couldn’t stop smiling. She gathered her hair in a ponytail. Just dressing like this made her feel like a kid.

  Rye was waiting for her by the front door, pointedly not looking at Adam. “You should go see Cash,” Cora said. “No sense ruining your night waiting on me.”

  Adam simply shook his head and looked away. Cora took Rye’s hand. He led her out to his truck and held the door open for her. When he slid behind the wheel, a surge of excitement quickened Cora’s heartbeat. She looked down at her legs, bared from mid-thigh to mid-calf, in a skirt shorter than anything she’d ever worn before. She imagined Rye’s hand on her thigh—his big, tanned, calloused hand on her bare, white flesh.

  “Think I’ll talk with Adam,” Rye said.

  Cora snapped out of her fantasy. “He’ll get over it on his own.”

  “Yeah, but he and I need to be friends. Or at least be able to get along.”

  Cora studied his profile. The sun hadn’t set, yet, but the light was low, and the shadows sharpened his features. Still, his words rang true. “You really mean that?”

  “Of course. He’s dating my brother. I’m dating you. He and I need to make an effort to be friends. Don’t you think?”

  Cora merely shrugged and suppressed a smile.

  “See, I’m not completely shallow, huh?” He gave her a fist-nudge to the shoulder, which she could have done without. She’d have liked to have been touched more romantically.

  They arrived at The Brick Oven and went inside, taking a table in the corner. Cora looked around for Franny, who could almost always be found spending her off hours sitting at the bar. Tonight she was absent.

  A waitress came by and took their drink orders. Rye ordered a soda. Cora figured it was because he was driving and ordered a beer for herself.

  Rye cleared his throat. “Um, tonight you’re underage. Better stick with tea or soda.”

  “You might be taking this game a little too far.” She amended her drink order. The waitress left, and Cora smiled at her date. “Separating a woman from her beer…you must have a death wish.”

  “How long have you been a beer drinker, boss?” Rye asked. He leaned back in his chair like he was settling in for a long, complex conversation.

  “I don’t know. I guess since college.”

  “Aw, come on. You didn’t drink in high school?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  Rye grinned. “So you weren’t completely a good girl.”

  Cora hitched a shoulder. She blushed when she remembered how much Rye liked that particular twitch of hers. Sure enough, he was grinning at her. “I was good enough.”

  The grin faded, some. “Well, you’re going to be a little bad on this date. Aren’t you?”

  “A little.”

  “Good. Because what you do on a high school date after making out at the theater is, you sneak into your parent’s liquor stash and make out some more in your bedroom. You up for that?”

  Cora felt herself shrink away, even as she stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes; even as her body reacted with searing heat. This was what it meant to want someone. This heat and tension between her legs meant that she wanted to be with this man. So why was it so terrifying?

  “Well?” He leaned forward, reached across the table, and took her hand in his. “Are you?”

  Cora quickly nodded.

  The waitress returned with their drinks and took their dinner order. Once she was gone, Rye withdrew his hand. His expression returned to his default stoicism. “You look hot dressed like a cheerleader.”

  “Yeah, right. I look ridiculous.”

  “That skirt makes me wanna do very, very bad things with you, Cora.”

  “Maybe we should talk about things that help us get to know each other.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Explain the thing with your sisters.”

  “Oh, wow. Okay. Um, there’s not really any more to it than what I’ve said. There’s four of them and, well, you’ve seen them—”

  “They’re tall, leggy, and gorgeous. Why should that have affected your social life?”

  “Because, Rye, no one saw me. I was completely invisible except for Adam, Franny, and Lyssa. Speaking of leggy and gorgeous, have you seen Franny and Lyssa? I mean, I’m surrounded by Amazons.” She shrugged.

  “You’ve misread the situation.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your sister’s looks didn’t kill your social life. You did.”

  “I beg your fucking pardon?”

  “You decided you were disadvantaged, and you decided to use that as an excuse not to try.”

  Now she felt like kicking him in the shin. “You a psychiatrist now?”

  His lip quirked up into a smirk. “I’m afraid to tell you how beautiful you are. I’m afraid you won’t believe me. Part of that’s my fault for the way I’ve acted since moving here. But part of it’s your fault, too, Cora. So I’m going to do my part and earn your respect. Once I’ve done that, I’m going to tell you just how beautiful you are. When I do, you need to do your part.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You need to believe me.”

  She studied him for a long time. Their food arrived and she never even saw it happen. Finally, she decided she was done talking about herself. “Why are you so protective of Cash?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Changing the subject. All right. I’m protective of Cash because he’s had a hard time, and I’m his oldest brother. Our father and other brother, Scott, turned their backs on him. I stuck up for him, and we’ve been looking out for each other since.”

  “I didn’t ask why you and your brother are loyal to each other. I asked why you’re protective of him.”

  “Mmm. Well…like I said, Cash has had a hard time.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I really can’t, Cora. He wouldn’t want me to. But he had a bad time.”

  “And you got arrested for defending him?”

  Rye didn’t answer for a long time. His eyes grew distant. “These guys…” he started to say. He shook his head, shook away the memory. “It was bad. That’s all. Really bad. And now, I’m just scared to be very far from him.”

  Cora nodded, as though she could possibly understand. Rye loved his brother in a way she co
uldn’t relate to. She certainly didn’t feel that kind of loyalty to her sisters.

  After that, they kept the conversation light as they ate their pizza. When they finished and left for the theater, Cora realized she hadn’t asked what they were going to see. What was more, she didn’t care. In fact, she felt like dinner had only been a way to prolong the tension leading up to the moment when Rye would kiss her again.

  They made it to the theater and got seated with their popcorn and soda while waiting for the previews to start. “Sure you haven’t seen this one already?” he asked.

  “I hardly ever go to the movies,” she said.

  He nodded. “Sure you don’t want candy or anything?”

  “I’m sure I don’t want to spend five dollars for a box of Raisinettes.”

  “Raisinettes? Is that what you want?” He shoved the popcorn bucket at her, hopped up, and walked out of the room. He was back in five minutes with an overpriced box of her favorite candy. He was so frugal in the office. She was glad he wasn’t cheap when going on a date.

  “You are a good date,” she said.

  “This is fun for me. Feels…easy. And fun. I like it.” He turned to her. “I like you, Cora.”

  She blushed and gazed at him, all starry-eyed. Then the lights dimmed, and the previews started. She leaned toward him. “Do we make out, now?”

  He put his lips to her ear. “You have to wait until I make my move. Sit in anticipation, Cora. You never know when it might happen.”

  Then he went back to eating popcorn. The movie started about twenty minutes later. And by then she’d given up wondering when this mysterious move would come. So she opened up her candy and started munching. Fifteen minutes into the movie, Rye stretched his arms above his head in an exaggerated manner and dropped them along the backs of the seats on either side of him.

  She looked up at him, and he gave her a quick, cool nod. A couple of minutes later, his arm dropped onto her shoulders, and he pulled her closer to him. He reached over her, into her box of Raisinettes, and took a small handful. These he ate casually, as though she wasn’t sitting there with her blood singing in anticipation. Her skin pebbled with goosebumps, and she felt a strong, urgency between her legs.

  She wondered if he was going to make any more moves. So she decided to encourage him. She nuzzled up next to him and rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She felt his cheek rest atop her head. His hand moved up and down her arm.

  He reached beneath her chin, tilted her head up, and took her mouth with his own. Cora thrilled at the taste of his tongue in her mouth, at the authority with which he kissed her. His hand was on her neck, and she mentally begged him to touch her more. Lower.

  He moved his lips down her jaw and beneath her ear. She felt him suck until it hurt. She was about to tell him to stop when his hand finally moved to her breast and squeezed and teased her nipple. He was giving her a hickey, she just knew it, and she’d have to wear a scarf to work on Monday.

  He took her mouth again and, true to his word, made out with her the rest of the movie. When it was over, and the house lights came back up, he pulled away and leaned his head back on the seat with his eyes closed. People were leaving, and the credits were rolling. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I just need a minute.”

  She watched his face for a long time. He must have felt her eyes because he smiled.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Picturing my grandpa naked.”

  “Dear, God, why?”

  He laughed. “You’ll figure it out.”

  He went back to concentrating and finally opened his eyes. “Okay. Ready to go?”

  She was still working on the mystery but nodded anyway. He grinned at her. “What?” she asked.

  “You’re an incredible mess.”

  Her hands went to her hair falling out of her ponytail. Rye laughed, stood, and pulled her to her feet.

  In his truck, he asked, “So tell me how to get to your mom’s house?”

  “What? Why?”

  He frowned at her. “I told you how this date was going down. We gotta sneak into your mom’s liquor stash and then make out in your bedroom.”

  “Oh, God. No way. I have my own liquor stash, Rye.”

  “Listen, you should have thought about this back when you didn’t date in high school. Now we have to do this. It was a key part of your developmental process. You skipped over it. So now here we are. Now how do I get there?”

  She couldn’t stop grinning. “We can’t sneak in.”

  “We have to.”

  His expression and tone were so serious she couldn’t help but laugh. And because she loved every bit of this time with him, she gave him directions.

  As they rounded the curve that led to her mom’s driveway, they began lowering their voices. “You should turn off your headlights.”

  He clicked them off and parked on the street. “Shit, this is a really nice place. She doesn’t have a security alarm, does she?”

  “You didn’t factor that into your plans, smart guy?”

  He scoffed. “Nope. I didn’t realize you were a rich kid.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I have a key and the code for the alarm. So are we going?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They quietly shuffled up the driveway, beneath the portico, and up to the door. Rye stood behind her, kissing her neck and sliding his hands up and down her arms. She was so flustered she had to try several times to get her key in the lock. He laughed, and she shushed him.

  The lights were out inside. The two of them walked as softly as they could to the den, which used to be her father’s sanctuary. That was where all the good liquor was.

  Cora turned on a small lamp at the end of the bar. The room had been done in wood and leather. The lamp glow gave the room a warm feel. Rye went to work raiding the bar. He came out with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. “Okay, take me to your room.”

  She kept trying to stop smiling. The face and body of an experienced man dressed like a teenage boy and behaving like one, too. He was incongruous. He was an exciting, refreshing conundrum. He was gorgeous.

  “Well?” he asked, his eyebrows up to indicate the soberness of the moment. As though everything hinged on her taking him to her childhood room.

  Cora laughed. “It’s not my room anymore, Rye.”

  “Listen. There is nothing more exciting than taking a lover back to your childhood room. It’s like, forbidden or something. I can’t explain it, I only know it’s true. So let’s go.”

  Cora sighed. “Follow me. But for God’s sake, be quiet. I can’t express how humiliating this would be if I got caught.”

  Rye switched the lamp off, and the two of them fumbled their way out of the den, past the foyer, and to the staircase. The darkness and quiet in the house amplified every noise they made. Their footsteps. Their breathing. Cora just knew that any moment the light in her mother’s bedroom would come on, flooding the upstairs hallway.

  But it didn’t. They snuck down the hall in the opposite direction. Cora’s room was on the end, everything still as it had been when she’d lived there growing up. She bumbled her way to the nightstand and switched on her lamp. Rye fingered the edge of the pink, frilly comforter. “Kinda girly in here,” he said.

  “Should we go?” Please, let’s go, Cora thought, still afraid of getting caught.

  Rye’s grin was devilish. “Oh, no, boss. We gotta defile this place a little bit.” He sat the shot glasses on the nightstand, opened the whiskey bottle, and poured. He handed her a glass, lifted his, and said, “To first times.”

  She clinked glasses with him and shot the whiskey. As it burned its way down her throat, Rye poured more. This time she sipped as she sat on the edge of the bed and watched him continue to take in his surroundings. First the pink, lace window treatments. Then the antique vanity against the wall. Her bookcase—mostly empty since she’d taken her books with her when she’d moved out. The assortm
ent of china dolls atop her dresser.

  “How come you don’t take these to your house?” Rye asked. He slugged back his second shot.

  “They creep me out.”

  He barked a laugh. “Why the hell do you have them, then?”

  “My mom. Most everything in here is my mom. Attempts to get me interested in something more girly. Something she could relate to.”

  Rye frowned and nodded. He returned to the nightstand and sat his shot glass next to hers. Now he was standing less than a foot away from her. She craned her neck back to stare up at him. He shoved out of his jacket. All he had on was a plain, white t-shirt that hugged his powerful chest and shoulders. Cora’s mouth went dry.

  “Want another drink?” he asked. He stepped toward her, and she instinctively scooted backward on the bed.

  “Sure,” she said, hoping to forestall the inevitable. It struck her as strange that her body could be screaming ‘yes’ even as her mind shouted, ‘not yet, not yet.’

  Rye poured one shot. He lifted it to his lips and tossed it back. Cora’s heart thundered as he leaned over her, cupping the back of her head, and pulling her lips to his. She parted her lips, and warm whiskey flooded her mouth, followed by Rye’s insistent tongue. The whiskey made her body pliant. Or maybe that was just an excuse for letting Rye push her to her back and lie down on top of her.

  When he pulled back, he was grinning. “One part Johnny Walker, one part sweet, sweet Cora. My new favorite drink.”

  God help her, she actually giggled. But when he lowered his lips again, she forestalled him with a hand to his chest. “Wait. Rye? How far do you plan on going tonight?”

  “The answer to that question will always be, ‘As far as you’ll let me.’”

  She laughed and stopped yet another attempt to kiss her. “It’s our first date.”

  Rye searched her eyes, his expression sobering some. With a nod, he rolled to his back and pulled her atop him. She stifled a shriek at the sudden movement.

  “So what would normally happen,” he said, propping himself on his elbows to get eye-to-eye with her, “if this were a real high school date, is we’d make out and grind against each other a little. Then I’d prematurely ejaculate, bringing the evening to an embarrassing end. But you’re dealing with an experienced man, tonight, Cora, so we’ll just have to let you set the pace and end the evening on your terms. How’s that sound?”

 

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