Petal Plucker

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Petal Plucker Page 10

by Iris Morland


  His arrogance fed my own anger, like gasoline to a fire. “You’re thinking that I’m just this weird chick obsessed with plants,” I spat. “That I had a crush on you when we were kids, and gee whiz, she must still have a hard-on for me! So you tried me out, but decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. Because you aren’t really interested in me. I’m just a warm body. Any other woman would work just fine.”

  I was breathing hard by the end of my diatribe. Tears pricked my eyes, which only happened when I was so angry that I wanted to throw a chair. Unfortunately for me, there were no chairs light enough for me to throw at Jacob. Also I was pretty sure that, like poisoning someone, throwing chairs was illegal in Canada.

  Jacob stepped toward me until our toes touched. I had to tilt my head back to see his face.

  “Every single thing you said,” he rumbled, “was one big, fucking lie.”

  I didn’t realize he’d maneuvered me toward the wall until I felt my back press against it. He caged me in, just like he’d done that night under my apartment’s stairs. This time, though, I wasn’t drunk, and I could see every emotion flash across his face. I could make out the dark blond stubble on his jaw, a little nick near his ear he must’ve made this morning while shaving.

  In that moment, I felt trapped, desired, angry, confused. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him closer or jam my fist into his solar plexus.

  “Why do I feel like you’re full of shit?” I shot back. “You keep saying one thing and doing another.”

  “You’re right.” My eyes widened at his confession. He pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But that’s the only thing you’re right about.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  His blue eyes flashed. I’d never been afraid of Jacob, but I was afraid of him for a split second. Not that he’d hurt me—no, he’d never hurt me. Not physically. But I was afraid because I knew how easily he could break my heart, the heart that I’d tried to protect for so long.

  “I never thought of you as some ‘weird plant girl,’ for one. It would be a bit hypocritical for me to think that, anyway.”

  I looked away, annoyed.

  “And I haven’t been trying you out.” He sounded so disgusted that I turned back to look at him. Anger filled his face, his voice. “If you think, for one damn second, that I haven’t wanted you with every fiber of my being since the first moment I saw you in your store, you’re wrong. I told myself to leave you well enough alone, but I’m not a saint, Dani.”

  My chin trembled. “I never asked you to be a saint.”

  “Good, because tonight isn’t about sainthood.” He grasped my chin. “The last thing on my mind is being good. I want to do bad things to you. Until the only thing you can say is, ‘more, Jacob.’ Until I’m buried so deep inside you that you can’t breathe. Until your tight little pussy squeezes around my cock when you come.”

  I definitely couldn’t breathe now. I could feel his cock, hard as iron, against my belly. My panties were already soaked. If he touched me, he’d feel how much I wanted him, no matter what I tried to tell myself otherwise.

  He kissed me—finally. It wasn’t just a kiss, though: it was like being consumed. Tipping my head back, he stroked my jaw, urging me to open my mouth. And I did. I surrendered to him, like our fight had never happened. His tongue brushed mine, and I reciprocated.

  He groaned, pressing me harder against the wall, fucking my mouth like I’d imagined he’d fuck my pussy. I couldn’t stop shivering. My nipples were hardened to diamond points. Between every kiss I gasped for breath, but I didn’t care if I stopped breathing. I never wanted Jacob to stop kissing me.

  “Tell me you want this,” he said, hoarse now. He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Tell me, or I’ll never touch you again.” Even as he said the words, he leaned down to kiss the shell of my ear.

  “Tell me. Tell me to leave you alone.” He sounded almost like he wanted me to say those very words.

  But my body had taken over my mind. I was a bundle of need, desire, desperation. Yet instead of saying something sexy like, “Take me, I’m yours,” I blurted, “I’m a virgin.”

  I’d played this scenario out in my head so many times already. When I told Jacob I was a virgin, he would either look horrified and run in the opposite direction, screaming; or, he’d laugh at me, because I was obviously joking.

  To my astonishment, he didn’t laugh. He didn’t scream. He didn’t say anything. He just pushed the strap of my tank top down my arm to kiss my shoulder.

  “I wondered,” he murmured. His tongue was a heated stroke against my skin.

  “You mean you knew?”

  “You did say that night in your apartment you hadn’t had guys over.” He almost looked apologetic, like he’d read my diary. “I didn’t think you were a virgin, but just—inexperienced.”

  I blushed. I didn’t know if it was from nerves or from the fact that Jacob hadn’t pushed me away. I hadn’t realized how anxious I’d been to tell him that I was a virgin.

  “I was afraid you’d judge me,” I whispered. I buried my face in his shoulder.

  “Dani, look at me.” I forced myself to obey him. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin, or if you’ve fucked a million guys.”

  My eyes widened. “A million would be pretty impressive.”

  “It would, but that’s not the point.” He kissed my forehead, then my nose. His lips were whisper soft. “Your self-worth isn’t based on who you have or haven’t screwed.”

  Tears of relief pricked my eyes. “Really?”

  “Really. We’ll take this as slow or as fast as you want. You’re in control. If you don’t like anything, you’ll tell me, okay?”

  I perked up. “Is this like Fifty Shades of Grey? Should we come up with a safe word?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a room full of whips and chains.”

  I stuck out my bottom lip. “How boring of you.”

  “Dani, I run a flower shop. How could I afford an entire room for chaining up women?”

  That was a fair point. “But I thought all Seattle guys had a red room?” I tried to sound innocent.

  “Choose a safe word.” He began to kiss me behind my ear, the spot especially sensitive. My brain seemed to forget what words even were. How could I choose one? I didn’t know any, except Jacob. And that wouldn’t really work as a safe word.

  “Hyacinth,” I squeaked as Jacob cupped my breast. “Nobody says that during sex.”

  “Apparently you’ve never had sex in a garden,” he quipped.

  Feeling bold all of a sudden, I pressed my hand over his heart, which was beating like a drum. I ran my fingers across his pectorals, enjoying the crisp texture of hair over the firm muscles. I brushed one of his nipples, and he hissed out a breath.

  As I moved downward toward his cock, still hard and outlined by his thin boxers, my pussy clenched with need. I might’ve not known the ins and outs of sex, but my body knew what it wanted. And what it wanted was Jacob West.

  He kissed me again before lifting me up into his arms and carrying me to my bed. After he’d set me down, never breaking our kiss, he pushed the other strap of my tank top down my arm. My tank was loose and I never wore a bra to bed. When the fabric fell below my breasts, my nipples now exposed to the cool air, his pupils dilated.

  “I take back what I said,” he muttered. “I should be the only man to see these tits of yours.”

  I shuddered, and I shuddered again when he licked around one peak. He pushed me back onto the bed, my legs widening instinctively to allow him room. He sucked my nipples until they ached. I kept arching against him, needing more contact. I was a live wire about to explode.

  “I’ve wanted to know if your nipples are as pink as your pussy.” Jacob kissed down my torso and then very slowly pushed my sleep shorts down, revealing my cotton panties. When I sucked in a breath, he said, “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I squeaked.

  “Because you looked terrified right the
n.”

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”

  He looked dubious. To prove I wasn’t just appeasing him, I took off my panties, completely naked now. I was blushing all over. No man had seen me completely naked before, and it was—exhilarating. Nobody had looked at me like Jacob looked at me right now.

  “Spread your legs,” he instructed.

  My thighs quivered as I lay back down. I hadn’t yet exposed myself to him. I suddenly wished we’d turned out the lights. What if he didn’t like what he saw?

  “You’re thinking too much,” he said.

  “How can you tell?”

  He smiled. “I told you. You narrow your eyes when you’re thinking.” He murmured reassurances, dirty words. He kissed my knees, licked at my ankles.

  Finally I found the courage to spread my legs, my pussy on display. I was already soaking. I covered my eyes, because it was too much to watch him.

  “Don’t.” His voice was guttural. “I want you to watch this.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I watched as he lightly petted the soft curls covering my mound. I was afraid I’d come before he’d even begun touching me.

  He parted my pussy lips, groaning deep in his throat as he slicked a finger through the folds. “I was right,” he said, “your pussy is just as pink as your nipples.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Every feeling, every sensation, centered right where Jacob touched me. He caressed me, avoiding my clit, despite my best attempts to buck into his hand. He strummed my body like a string instrument. Wetness seeped from my body, and if I weren’t so wild for release, I would’ve died of embarrassment.

  “Tell me what you like,” he said. His index finger danced around my throbbing clit.

  “Harder,” I gasped.

  He lightly brushed my clit, like a butterfly wing of a caress. When I arched, wanting more, he increased the pressure. I moaned. “Wait, wait. A little bit more—yes.”

  “You’re so gorgeous, Dani, your pussy wet and aching for me.” He continued to circle my clit, tapping it a few times, which made my toes curl into the bedspread.

  He didn’t stop playing with my clit as he slowly pressed a finger inside my channel. I jerked in surprise, even his single index finger feeling like an invasion.

  He swore under his breath. “Fuck, you’re tight. I can barely get one finger inside you.”

  I quivered. My heart was pounding in my ears. Jacob petted my leg, soothing me, and soon I was begging for more. More, more, more. It was the only word I knew right then.

  “I want you to come for me,” he said, finger-fucking me as he rubbed my clit. “I can feel you gripping my finger. Jesus, Dani.”

  My vision blurred. I couldn’t speak. I could only moan, and beg, and writhe as he made my body do exactly what he wanted it to do. I was a slave to his mastery. Tears leaked from my eyes. My release drew closer and closer, the orgasm just out of reach.

  “Jacob,” I cried out.

  “I got you, sweetheart. Let go. I’ll catch you.”

  I did. I let go—I fell off the cliff, my cry filling the room. I shook, Jacob continuing to draw out my release with his brilliant, magical fingers.

  He wrapped me in his arms afterward, and I realized I needed to hold onto something after what had just happened. It wasn’t just my body that had flown apart: it was my heart. I’d thought it had been so well protected. I’d thought—I didn’t know anymore.

  I buried my face in Jacob’s shoulder like before as he kissed me.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I said, gulping in air still.

  “Sure.”

  “Since you’ve basically half-deflowered me, can I have your phone number finally?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I fell in love with Jacob a third time when I was seventeen. I also fell out of love with him at seventeen.

  Yes, this is the prom story.

  In April of my senior year of high school, Anna came skipping up to me at lunch, her face flushed. She proceeded to tell me that Sam from band had asked her to prom, despite our pact that we wouldn’t attend because prom was dumb.

  “You know it’s going to be too many people packed into the Country Lodge, with the deer heads on the walls, and everyone’s going to be drunk and sweaty,” I said. “And Sam is probably going to try to grope you in the back of his pickup afterward. Wow, sounds fun.”

  “Now you’re just being a jerk.” Anna grabbed her lunch and stood up. “And Sam doesn’t drive a pickup. He drives his mom’s minivan.”

  With that parting shot, Anna left me to sit at lunch alone. She was always my lunch buddy—my only one. If either of us was sick, the days were long and lonely without each other. Guilt sat in my stomach like lead. I was about to go after Anna when the bell rang. I’d have to apologize after school.

  As I walked to physics, I watched Jacob with his group of friends. I thought of when he’d acted like he’d given me that valentine back in eighth grade when any other boy would’ve told me to get lost. I thought of what it would be like to go to prom with Jacob West.

  What if I asked him, and he said yes?

  My fight with Anna continued as the days passed, mostly because Anna refused to talk to me. I texted her over and over, until finally, she simply replied, stop texting me.

  If Anna was going to prom with her date, then I was going to have one, too. By Thursday, I’d managed to get up enough courage to ask Jacob myself. I’d rehearsed the words I would say in the mirror at home. Before lunch, I went into the girl’s bathroom and rehearsed for the last time. Until a girl yelled at me through a stall door to shut up because she couldn’t pee with me talking to myself.

  I waited until school ended. I knew Jacob often hung out in the atrium with his friends until they had practice. If I were lucky, I could catch him before he went to track practice.

  When I found him sitting on a bench by himself, messing with his phone, I considered it a sign from the universe. From God himself, Buddha, the Flying Spaghetti Monster—all three combined were shining down on me and saying, Jacob is yours. Ask and ye shall receive a date to prom.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Jacob didn’t look up from his phone.

  “Hi,” I said more loudly.

  Finally, he heard me. “Hi,” he said. He sounded confused. I couldn’t blame him: we rarely talked anymore. Sometimes we’d walk past each other going home, but beyond a few “hey’s” and “bye’s,” we weren’t exactly best friends. Jacob hadn’t even asked for my notes since we’d started high school. We didn’t have many classes that overlapped.

  “I wanted to ask you something.” The words tumbled from mouth, so quickly that it sounded more like Iwanttoaskyousomething. Before Jacob could say no, I added, “Do you want to go to prom with me?”

  A faint blush climbed up his cheeks. His phone chimed, but he didn’t look at it. He was just looking at me, like I was some new species he’d discovered.

  Then, he said the words I’d only ever daydreamed hearing: “Okay.”

  My face was so red at this point that I was sure I was on fire. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  It wasn’t exactly the effusive reaction I’d wanted, but it was enough. My heart practically burst inside me with excitement.

  I’m going to prom with Jacob. He said yes. I’m going to prom with JACOB WEST.

  “You look beautiful, Dandelion.” My dad finished one last tweak on my corsage and placed it on my wrist. It was made up of white roses and violets, the flowers’ meanings not lost on me at all.

  “Did you seriously give me a corsage with flowers that mean purity and modesty?” I groused. “What do you think we’re going to be doing at prom?”

  Dad cleared his throat. “It’s more to warn him off. If he knows anything about flowers—which he should—he’ll know you aren’t a girl who gets around.”

  “Dad.”

  “So when is this boy coming?” He said the words this boy like you would say this rabi
d raccoon. My parents had never come around to Jacob West, but when I’d told them in no uncertain terms that he was taking me to prom and they could either like it or not, they decided to keep their mouths shut for once.

  “He said he’d be here by five o’clock.”

  My palms were sweaty with anticipation. I was glad I’d put on extra deodorant because I was so nervous that I was sure to pit out my dress. When I’d told Anna that Jacob had agreed to go to prom with me, she’d been so surprised that she’d broken her silent treatment with me. We’d found dresses together—her, a red strapless number, me, a green puffy silk dress that looked like something out of my garden—but we decided to meet at the restaurant together before going over to the Country Lounge.

  “Oh, you look so beautiful.” My mom wiped a tear from her eye. “Kate, stop tearing apart that doll and tell your sister she’s pretty.”

  Kate glanced up at me and shrugged. “Her hair is too big.”

  “And your nose is too big,” I said. Kate just stuck out her tongue and returned to whatever evil experiment she was doing on her Barbie. I’d stopped asking her what she was doing years ago. I figured it was safer for all of us. I almost wished Mari was here, but she was attending college down at Oregon State.

  My parents took pictures of me, making me stand by my dad’s orchids and even holding one of his favorites, a Dossinia jewel orchid, with its deep burgundy leaves laced with pink, green and gold that sparkled in the light. I’m pretty sure he loved that plant more than me and my sisters combined, but he also said it needed way more care than we did, so I couldn’t be offended that he loved a plant more than me. My mom then had me go outside and take more photos with her rosebushes. Finally, I told them my feet hurt and I returned inside to wait for Jacob.

  It was four-thirty. I’d told him that I was wearing green, so I assumed he’d wear a matching green tie. Jacob would look amazing in a tux, I thought. I could see it now: him ringing the doorbell, a bouquet in his hand. I’d answer it, and he’d stare at me in shock before stuttering out how beautiful I was.

 

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