by LL Meyer
She purses her lips. “You know what I mean.”
I kiss those sweet lips quickly. “I do, and you’re welcome. I always take care of what’s mine.”
I try to pull her out of the bathroom, but she resists with a laugh. “Let me finish drying my hair.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Fine, but I want you sitting beside me in three minutes in the rec room.”
“Ooh,” she says, smiling. “Bossy Dane.”
I think I fall even deeper in love with her. “That’s right. Three minutes.”
I leave her giggling, wondering if I’ve done enough to reassure her and go to find Jason already in the rec room watching TV.
“She okay?” he asks.
I grin. “Yeah. She was laughing a bit.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No, I didn’t want to ruin her mood. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
He looks like he disapproves, but I don’t give a shit. There was no way he’d have been able to tell her either.
“Just so long as you do,” he warns me.
“Meaning what?”
“If you don’t tell her, I will.”
“I said I’d tell her and I meant it. You don’t have to go all Die Hard on me.”
He laughs.
Lily comes hurrying into the room, her face lit up by a smile. “Did I make it?”
Now I laugh as she throws herself down beside me. “Yeah, you made it. But just barely.”
Jason gives me a quizzical look over her head, but I shake my head at him to tell him it’s not important. When he catches sight of Lily, he does a double take.
“Oh no,” Jason groans. “She can’t be wearing that.”
Lily looks up quickly. “Why not?”
Jason ignores her and looks at me. “Don’t you have a Cowboys T-shirt or something?” he says with disgust. “I’m going to be wondering what’s under there all night.”
“Do you have a Cowboys T-shirt?” I ask incredulously.
“No!”
“Well, why would I?”
“What’s wrong with a Cowboys T-shirt?” Lily asks.
We both look at her like she’s lost her mind.
“What?” she laughs. “It’s a legitimate question.”
Jason grins at her. “Not in this house.”
She rolls her eyes. “Men are so weird about baseball.”
Jason looks like he’s about to choke, and she lets him suffer for a few moments longer before she bursts out giggling.
“You’re as gullible as he is,” she says, pointing at me.
“At least I’m only gullible when I’m hungover.”
“You guys are mean,” Jason announces. “But just as long as you’re not the kind of girl who doesn’t know a touchdown from a homerun.”
“Hey, when I was little, I dutifully watched football with my dad every Sunday.”
Jason gives her a piercing look. “And who, exactly, did you cheer for?”
“Forty-Niners.” She glares right back, daring him to say anything.
“Well, as long as it wasn’t Dallas or bloody Green Bay.”
She grins. “No, don’t worry.”
My phone buzzes, announcing the food’s arrival. “Will you go?” I ask him.
“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you’re not fucking her on the couch when I get back.”
I frown at him, but Lily giggles, so I let it go.
What a relief. I understand that we’re pretending that nothing happened, but that she can joke around and laugh is a reprieve that I’m pretty thankful for. For the rest of the night, we watch Jimmy Kimmel on the DVR, and even though she only picks at the food, she seems okay.
But in bed that night, she’s restless, tossing and turning, and I worry that she’s being bombarded by the same kinds of images that I am. I certainly hope not. I wonder if I should try to make love to her, but that has a questionable outcome at best. Who knows if I’d be making everything worse?
By two a.m., I finally break down and just ask her. “Lil?” I whisper.
She jumps; I guess she thought I was asleep.
“I’m sorry,” she says sadly. “I can go to the other room.”
“What? No.” I pull her back tight against my chest. “But is there something I can do? Do you need something?”
She pulls in a deep, shaky breath, but doesn’t say anything.
I try to coax it out of her. “You know I’d do anything for you. You can tell me.”
Another deep breath. “Can Jason come and sleep with us?” She says it like it’s the most shameful thing that’s ever come out of her mouth.
And me? I sigh in relief. Is that all? “Of course he can.” I roll over and grab my phone.
PG wants you to sleep with us. Don’t make a big deal.
I send the message and then call him, so his phone will wake him up. I hang up after a couple of rings and then roll back to Lily.
It doesn’t take him long to show up. He crawls in and she snuggles up to his arm. And that’s all it takes. I assume she falls asleep because after that there’s no more fidgeting and her breathing evens out.
Dawn comes early in June, and the slowly brightening room pulls me out of my uneasy slumber. I try my best to go back to sleep, but my attempts at blocking out yesterday’s events are failing miserably. When I close my eyes, the only thing I see is that man’s leering face.
That I’m able to sneak out without waking either of them is a minor miracle for which I’m grateful; I don’t want to talk right now.
In the bathroom, I pull on the bikini top that matches the bottoms I’m already wearing and grab a towel. On my way out, I stop and stare at the two of them, sleeping so peacefully, one dark haired, one light, and my chest swells with emotion.
It’s cloudy this morning and I know the pool is going to be cold, but I don’t care. I need something to distract myself from this horrible nervous ache that’s sitting in my stomach.
Cold is an understatement; the water is freezing, but I push through it and start doing lap after lap, concentrating on my breathing and my strokes. Soon I warm up, and the combination of the water rushing over me and the muffled sounds are enough to bring me a sense of calm. I’m starting to tire when I notice feet hanging in the water on a return lap. Arriving next to them, I surface.
Dane is sitting there in shorts and a hoodie with his coffee in his hand, smiling weakly. “Morning.”
I make an effort to put a smile on my face. “Morning. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
He shakes his head, his smile now rueful. “The alarm company called to tell me someone was opening the French doors.”
“Oh.” I pause. “I didn’t think of that. Sorry.”
He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. “I’ll show you how to turn it off for next time.”
“So you’ve been awake all this time?”
He smiles down at me with so much love that I forget my guilt. “Don’t worry,” he says, holding up his mug. “I’m already on my second cup. You getting out now?”
I nod, and then haul myself up to sit beside him. He passes me the towel and I wrap it around myself in an attempt to fend off the cold.
“So, Lil? Can we talk for a second?”
I stiffen. “Aren’t we already?” To avoid his eyes, I send my gaze out across the yard. It looks slightly depressing in the gray morning light without the sun shining.
“I need to tell you something that the cop told Jason yesterday.”
My throat constricts, but I manage to nod so he’ll go on.
He proceeds to tell me that the guy had all of my personal information and that I shouldn’t go home and that I should probably tell Charmaine. He says it gently, but it makes my mind go blank with shock.
“So,” he says, putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close. “Until this gets sorted out, you’ll stay here with us, okay?”
The shock gets smothered with relief, and as I nod my head against him, he kisses the top of my head.
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“And there’s one more thing I have to tell you.”
My pulse speeds up again. What else can be wrong?
“Your boss agreed to give you a week off, so you don’t have to be back at work until a week from Monday if you don’t want to.”
“Oh.” At first, the idea just adds to the relief, but then my mind falls back into old habits and starts in circles about the money. And suddenly I’m just so tired of my pathetic life. For a long moment, I struggle to make sense of my jumbled thoughts and messy emotions until, slowly, a solution to all my problems becomes clearer and clearer. I won’t say that this has never occurred to me before, but in the past, I’ve always been able to talk myself out of it. Now, after what’s happened, I think that drastic measures are called for.
“I guess it’s not so important anymore,” I tell him, feeling better now that the decision has been made.
He squeezes my shoulder in a show of support, probably thinking I’m talking about my life compared to money.
“Dane, I can’t go back there ever again.”
“You’re going to quit?”
I shake my head. “Not my job. School.”
He tenses, and I flinch away from the stern disapproval on his face as he pulls back to look at me.
“I’d be constantly looking over my shoulder,” I explain. “Expecting the worst every second of the day.” As I say the words, just how true they are becomes plain to me.
He still hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s about to burst with how much he has to say on the subject. “I’m not going to argue about this with you right now, Lil. We need some distance from the whole thing before either of us starts spouting off.”
The way he phrases things is really offensive sometimes, and even though I know that’s not his intention, his words still hurt.
He sighs. “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”
When we get inside there’s a bunch of boxes on the kitchen table.
“Oh yeah,” he says, with a small smile. “Those came for you yesterday.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, they were in the office.”
An unexpected twinge of excitement sparks in my chest. “You got me something?”
“I did,” he says simply.
“Can I see what they are?”
“Of course,” he says with a smile, his tone telling me this isn’t the reaction he was expecting.
He passes me the scissors from the knife block, and I tear into the first box. I smile up at him when I’ve got it open. “You bought me pink Converse high-tops?!”
“You like them?” he asks, so pleased that it sounds like I do.
“Yes! They’re amazing.”
“Keep opening, then.”
They turn out to be more pairs in black, purple, and lime green.
“Dane!” I exclaim, happiness surging through me. Though I’m not sure why it’s okay for him to buy me things now when it wasn’t before. My pride seems to be on vacation. “But why so many?”
“’Cause I was four minutes late, remember?”
My heart melts. “Really?” I say, completely overwhelmed. “I . . . Thank you so much.” I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him.
Jason interrupts from the doorway with a groan. “Please. No PDA before I’ve had my coffee.”
I giggle, pulling myself out of the circle of Dane’s arms. “I’m going to get dressed, but . . .” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t have any clothes here.”
“Nice,” Jason says, forgetting his grumpiness. “I’ve always said we need a naked chick running around here.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I think it might get a little chilly.”
“I can live with hard nipples if you can.”
I glare half-heartedly at him before turning to Dane who’s smirking. “Will you take me to get some stuff?”
He narrows his eyes. “I thought we’d settled on naked.”
“All right,” I say with amusement while Jason laughs. “Obviously, this conversation isn’t going anywhere. I’ll be in the shower.”
As I’m leaving, Dane calls out, “I’ll be right there, Pretty Girl.”
While I’m in the shower, I revel in the low buzz of contentment and wonder at how life works. Just when I think I’ve finally been knocked down so hard that I’ll never get back up, something comes along and gently helps me to my feet.
The sound of the shower door opening as I’m rinsing my hair makes me smile.
“Why Miss Friesen, whatever are you smiling about?” Dane murmurs into my ear and despite the warm water, goosebumps raise along my arms and my smile broadens.
“Why nothing at all, Mr. Wilson.”
Fingertips run up the back of my thigh, sliding easily through the shampoo on its way down, and then come to rest at the bottom of an ass cheek. Squeezing one side and then the other, he continues.
“Have I mentioned that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?”
I move closer to him, fitting my head under his chin.
“Hmmm?”
I giggle. “I’m sorry, were you looking for an actual answer?”
“I was.” His other hand is now sliding up my stomach to cup my breast.
“Well, yes, Mr. Wilson you may have mentioned my supposed beauty previously.”
“Supposed? Oh no, Miss Friesen,” he says with mock horror. “Are you being defiant?”
My eyes narrow for a moment. “You know I dislike that word, Mr. Wilson. But how can I resist you when you’ve had your coffee and you’re being so sweet?”
His next words are curiously hesitant. “So, you’re thinking . . . ?”
“Thinking?”
“That it’s okay if we . . .”
Oh, I finally get it.
“If we . . . read the bible together?” I suggest.
His hands tighten on my ass, making me squeak out a laugh.
“Oh, you mean make love. Actually, Mr. Wilson, there’s nothing I can think of that would make me happier.” I kiss along his collarbone and then go up on my tiptoes and start on his unshaven jaw.
“Are you sure?”
I pause. Uncertain Dane? I don’t like it. I’ll be damned if I let what happened change our relationship. My heels slap down in the water as I pull away. “Asked and answered,” I announce in a tone of voice that has him raising his brows at me.
Our eyes hold for a moment.
“Hands on the wall, Miss Friesen.”
I practically sigh at the renewed authority in his voice. That’s more like it.
He taps my ankle with his foot. “Legs further apart.”
I watch him lather the soap in his hands, and I shiver in anticipation. One set of fingers comes from the back and teases my entrance and the other comes from the front, tracing around my clit. Almost immediately, my body is asking for him to push into me. But while the fingers in the front are doing their best to take me higher, he stubbornly refuses to do more with the ones in the back except taunt me.
I rise up on my toes, seeking the penetration I crave.
“Please, Dane,” I beg.
“Please what?”
“Put your fingers in me.”
“Are you close?” His voice flows over me.
A strangled, “Yes,” makes its way out of my throat.
“Well, there’s your problem. You’re not allowed to come until I’m deep inside you.”
His words make my pussy clench with the first hint of my coming release. I’m practically kissing the wall now, my ass in the air, wishing for things he’s just not giving me when he surprises me by pushing me under the spray to quickly rinse.
The water dissolves, seemingly into thin air and now he’s pulling me out of the shower.
“What are you doing?” I mumble, disoriented and laughing.
“Don’t want to wait anymore.”
“We’re getting water everywhere.”
“Don’t care. On the bed, on your knees.”
God,
I love Bossy Dane.
I do as I’m told and put my head down on the bed the way he likes it.
“Knees together. Hands on your tailbone.”
This is new. His words light me on fire.
“Lace your fingers together.”
I realize that I have no way to brace myself as his hands run down my waist over my hips and then down my thighs. Then he’s gone.
I hear the bedside table’s drawer open and slam shut, and then the familiar crackle of the condom package. “Fuck, I could look at you like this all day long.”
“All day?” I complain, wiggling my ass in the air.
I hear his soft laugh before he positions himself behind me. He runs his cock roughly up between my legs and once he’s in the right spot, he grabs my hips and plunges deep.
Something between a scream and a moan comes out of me, the sudden invasion almost too much pleasure to bear. After a few strokes, I want to push back against him, but when I let my hands fall, he stops.
“Put them back,” he orders.
I whimper. His fingers dig into my hips; he’s itching to continue, I can feel it. I slide my hands back into place and the bliss of the push and pull starts up again. I’m drowning in it, like it’s the sea, each wave taking me higher and higher until finally I reach the tipping point and there’s nothing but the now familiar mind-bending rush. Dane’s faltering thrusts barely even register I’m so far gone.
I feel the mattress move next to me. Dane is no longer inside of me and neither are my knees holding me up. His head is next to mine, and I’m staring into his loving eyes. I lick my lips and feel them pull into a weak smile. “That was awesome,” I tell him.
“It was,” he says simply.
After a few moments of listening to our breathing and enjoying the feel of his fingertips on my jaw, I say, “We’re ruining the duvet.” I wonder how long he can go before he reverts to his responsible adult self. The answer: another twenty seconds, give or take.
He pulls me up with him and we head back to the shower.
My post-orgasmic bliss allows me to pull on yesterday’s clothes with much less aversion than I would have thought possible, and when Jason sees me, he laughs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s high.”
Dane is laughing now too, as we head out the door. “She’s high on the big O, aren’t you, Pretty Girl?”
