Rock Country

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Rock Country Page 5

by K. Webster

“It’s what I know.” No flicker of emotion. No happiness. Nothing.

  “Would you like to quit and help me look after Dad? It would require you staying here. We need help with making sure he doesn’t overdo it, that he takes his meds properly, and whatever else might need to be done. It would be nice if you could help us with meals as well.”

  She darted her gaze between me and Dad, who was grinning from ear to ear, clearly on board with the suggestion.

  “But, Bobby, I don’t know the first thing about home health care. Don’t you want someone more qualified?” She looked nervous, but I could see the spark in her eyes.

  “We’ll make it work—together. I’d much rather have someone here taking care of Dad who cares about him. These ladies I’ve interviewed wouldn’t give him the care that you would, June. Please say yes.”

  Dad squeezed her hand again, urging her to agree. A grin she couldn’t suppress stretched across her face.

  “Yes.”

  Packing my clothes into my bag, I tried to process what I’d agreed to. My boss Larry at the diner had been surprisingly supportive of my decision to leave and help Mr. Acer. Everyone in this town loved him, and he would be sorely missed. Even Momma thought it was a great idea. My mind was reeling, but for once in a really long time, I felt excited.

  I knew it would be a struggle to care for someone who was dying, but the hopeful look on Mr. Acer’s face when Bobby asked me to take the job had been enough for me to try my hardest. They both deserved to have someone who cared to make this difficult time of their lives as seamless as possible. The fact that I would get to spend more time with Bobby had sort of helped solidify my decision.

  When I made it back to their house, I had to bite my lip in order to not moan at the site of a shirtless Bobby as he worked on the front porch. Instead, I settled for wrapping my arms around his sweaty neck as he knelt and kissing the top of his head.

  “Hey, June Bug. Did you get all of your stuff?” He stood and turned around so he could pull me into his arms. Not giving me a chance to answer, he brought his lips to mine and kissed me softly. I reluctantly broke away so I could answer him.

  “Yep. All packed here in this bag. Where do you want me to stay?”

  He took hold of my hand and led me into the house, bypassing his room and Mr. Acer’s, taking me to the guest room. “You’re staying here with me,” he answered suggestively.

  I dropped the bag on the floor and grinned at him. “Why aren’t you staying in your room?”

  “Well, it would seem that a bed meant for a twelve-year-old boy doesn’t fit a twenty-seven-year-old man.”

  I chuckled as I imagined how his tall frame would fit in that little bed.

  “How’s your Dad doing?” I asked, wanting to get right to work.

  His eyes darkened as he stepped away from me, walking over to the door to shut and lock it. “He’s napping.” His body glistened from sweat from having been working in the heat. I suddenly wanted to rub my body all over his. Understanding the want in my eyes, he approached me quickly and devoured my mouth with his frantic kisses.

  He easily yanked off my tank top and quickly removed my bra, only breaking our kiss for a moment when the shirt had come off. His large hands went for my breasts and he stroked and rubbed, making me very hot for him. He stopped his kissing to pull down my cotton shorts and panties to my ankles, leaving me nude. His own pants and underwear were gone in a flash, and he led me over to the bed.

  I sat down on the bed and scooted to the middle, lying down. He crawled over and positioned himself over me.

  “June, you’re so beautiful. Being with you feels so right.” His thumb found my clit and he stroked me while he teased my entrance with his cock. It was driving me insane, and I wanted him in me immediately. The thought of having him inside me, coupled with his attention to my clit, sent an orgasm burning through my body.

  Before I’d had time to recover, still throbbing with the aftershocks, he slammed into me. His kisses muffled my moans as he thrust deeply. He was so big that he filled up every inch of me, and I could feel another spine-tingling orgasm on the horizon. Reaching behind himself, he found my ankles and pushed my legs up over his shoulders. This position had him as deep as he could possibly go, and I climaxed so hard tears sprang from my eyes. He immediately followed after me and grunted as he spilled his hot fire into my pussy.

  “Bobby, you are the best lover I’ve ever had.” I was still panting as I praised him. His smug grin caught me off guard and I play-punched him in the side. “I’ve only got one person to compare it to, so don’t get all cocky on me, mister.”

  His laughter echoed through the room as he pulled out of me and redressed. I slipped into the bathroom to clean up. When I walked back into the room, he was holding my clothes to hand back to me but dropped them on the bed when he saw me.

  “June, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. All I can think about is taking you again. You are a terribly sexy distraction,” he growled, closing in on me.

  I yelped when he grabbed my ass and hoisted me up his body, never breaking stride as he backed me into the bathroom and set me on the counter.

  His jeans were back off and he slammed into me before I even had time to process what had happened. My fingers found his hair and I gripped hard as he pounded me furiously. I could feel the edge of the counter biting into my ass while he screwed me six ways to Sunday.

  He groaned as his orgasm poured into me, and I immediately followed after, my pussy milking it all up. His lips found my neck and he sucked me hard, marking me. I giggled and slapped his shoulder.

  “You are so bad, Bobby,” I teased.

  His mouth found mine again and he nibbled on my lip, pulling it to him. “Baby, you haven’t seen bad yet. I want nothing more than to put those all over your body. If I mark you up, everyone will know you belong to me.”

  June offered to go to the store while I worked on the porch some more. Dad didn’t have much to cook with and she had her heart set on making us some home-cooked meals. I finally got most of the decayed boards on the porch removed and replaced. Tomorrow I would stain them with a sealant. I’d also managed to get the swing rehung and properly braced.

  Dad was still napping when I checked on him. He’d been in and out of naps today. My heart had this constant squeeze on it as I thought about how rapidly he had deteriorated even since I’d gotten here. I would never be able to forgive my mother. Dad had told me that, with his type of cancer, there wasn’t much they could do. He’d opted to not have chemo and instead use the last of his days feeling as good as he possibly could. I completely supported his decision.

  I took a quick shower and pulled on some boxers and jeans, forgoing a shirt at the moment. I was still hot as hell from working in the heat. Noises from the kitchen indicated that June was back from the store. When I made it to the kitchen, a heavenly Italian smell greeted me. She had already unloaded the groceries and was browning some hamburger meat. Coming up behind her, I noticed that some noodles were boiling and something else was simmering in a covered pot.

  “Whatcha got cookin’, good lookin’?”

  She turned her head to look at me and rolled her eyes but awarded me a smile. Since she was preoccupied with cooking, I decided to take the opportunity to touch her. I swept her hair off to one side and kissed her shoulder as I stood behind her. She shivered a bit but didn’t say anything. When I slipped my hand down the front of her cotton shorts and touched her clit through her panties, she moaned softly.

  “Bobby, you are making it extremely difficult to cook right now.”

  I moved her panties to the side and slid a finger inside her. “Don’t mind me.”

  “Oh,” she purred.

  My cock sprang to life and pressed into her lower back. She was still browning the meat but not doing a very good job. Thrusting quickly in and out of her, I curled my finger to graze against her g-spot, and she jerked underneath me. A few more times and her sex was clenching my finger as her orgasm coursed
through her.

  “Bobby, I have to finish this supper before I can finish you off.” She was panting her words. I chuckled at her and pulled my hand from her shorts. Slapping her bottom, I went to the sink to wash my hands so I could help her with the cooking.

  “There will be plenty of time for that later, June Bug.” I located a strainer and put it in the sink so she could drain the meat.

  “I’m makin’ spaghetti. Hopefully you and your dad will like that okay.”

  “Sounds great, babe. Do you need help with anything?”

  “You could throw the salad together,” she suggested.

  We got everything prepared, working effortlessly side by side. It amazed me how natural this felt with her. June was just setting the table when Dad shuffled in and sat down.

  “June, it smells great. You must have learned to cook from your momma,” Dad praised.

  She grinned and hugged his neck before finishing her task. “Thanks, Mr. Acer. Momma is one of the best.”

  “Darlin’, I want you to call me Sutton. It would seem that we can move past the formalities. You’re helping take care of me now. Please, no more Mr. Acer.”

  “Okay, but you know, after nineteen years of callin’ you Mr. Acer, it’s going to be difficult. But I promise I’ll try, Sutton.”

  He chuckled at her while she served up the food on everyone’s plates. I had already poured a glass of wine for each of us and a glass of water for Dad. Finally, she and I took our seats and began eating.

  “Wow, June. Dad wasn’t kidding. You are a great cook, even when you have distractions.” I winked over at her and she blushed, clearly embarrassed that I had brought it up in front of Dad.

  “Son, why don’t you play your guitar for us after dinner? You’ve been so busy workin’ on the porch that I haven’t even heard you play once.”

  I beamed at him and nodded. “Of course, Dad. I’d love to play some for you.”

  We chatted happily over dinner. I told some funny stories of some of our tour excitement and mishaps. The boys always kept things interesting. Tonight, I planned on calling Chaz to check in on things. After the kitchen had been cleaned in a joint effort between June and me, we all retired to the living room. Dad sat in his recliner and June curled up next to me on the couch.

  I pulled out my Gibson and strummed once. After tuning it a bit, I went through a couple of chords to warm up. Dad and June looked so eager, both wearing matching smiles. The pride I had in this moment beat any sold-out arena.

  Since I wasn’t a singer by nature, I just effortlessly played through my favorite songs I had written, each one running into the next. They didn’t seem to care that there weren’t words. The music spoke for itself. When I played the melancholy notes of Losing Her, I noticed June tear up from the corner of my eye. This was huge because she was definitely feeling something.

  Once I’d learned that Dad was dying and I’d read the letters, I started working on one called Losing Him. This time, it was about the obvious. It was the first time I’d played it for anyone, and it had yet to be sung. Looking over at Dad, I winked at him. He nodded his understanding that it was his song.

  “Okay, how about a break? You two want anything to drink?” Laying the guitar on the coffee table, I stood to look for something to drink. The emotions from my songs were still raw and I needed something to take the edge off. They both shook their heads no as I walked into the kitchen. While I searched, I heard them talking about some people in the town.

  Locating a bottle of whiskey, I pulled off the cap and took several gulps. The alcohol burned as it went down, and it took me a second to recover. My eyes were stinging with tears that I wanted to blame on the liquor. Taking a long pull from the bottle again, I located a plastic cup and dumped a good portion of the bottle into it. There was a two-liter of Coke sitting on the counter, so I poured a splash into the cup. Finally, I made it back into the living room.

  “Where’s Dad?” I questioned June.

  She narrowed her eyes at me as she looked me over. “He wasn’t feeling well and decided to lie down.” I nodded at her and gulped some more of the whiskey and Coke, starting to feel the effects. “Are you okay? You don’t look like you feel well either.”

  “I’m feeling great, babe. Why don’t you go out and sit on the porch swing? I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She bit her lip for a minute, trying to figure out what was wrong, but eventually stood and walked out the front door.

  I snuck back into my room and dug into my bag until I found some Xanax. Placing one on my tongue, I swallowed it down with my drink. Things were starting to feel numb and I was okay with that. It kept that painful burn out of my chest that had come on earlier when I played that song for Dad. Chugging the rest of my whiskey while I went into the bathroom, I set it down and quickly brushed my teeth.

  Slowly, I shuffled down the hall, checking on Dad along the way before making my way out the front door. June sat swinging, staring out into the darkness.

  “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” I slurred as I stepped out and mentally punched myself for the twang. When I drank, my accent sometimes slipped out, much to the entertainment of my friends.

  June jerked her head towards me. I couldn’t see her face in the dark, but I could sense that she was upset about something.

  “What’s wrong, June Bug?” I made my way over to her and sort of fell into the swinging, making it shake wildly underneath us.

  “Have you been drinking?” she asked. Her tone was clipped and somewhat shocked.

  “Just a little to take the edge off. I’ll tell you what I want to take off,” I growled into her neck as I, more roughly than I’d intended, grabbed her breast through her tank top. As I nipped her flesh with my teeth, she gasped.

  “It would seem you’ve had a little more than what you’re claimin’.” Annoyance laced her voice and I chose to ignore it. Things were becoming less lucid by the minute.

  I pulled down her shirt and bra, exposing her tit, and she exhaled loudly. Before she could protest, I sucked her nipple hard into my mouth. It must have been too hard because she grabbed my hair and yanked me back.

  “Bobby, whatever’s goin’ on, I don’t like it. Did you take somethin’? You’re acting so strange.”

  I ignored her and slid my hand up her leg. Her body was reacting to me even though she was trying to stop the effect I had on her. Pulling her shorts and panties to the side, I thrust two fingers inside her pussy. She was wet and ready for me, like always. Her mewls as I stroked her had my cock straining against my jeans. I leaned my head down again and sucked her tit again, but this time not as hard. She was moaning as I had my way with her on the swing. When her sex started clenching around my fingers, I knew she had come.

  “Fuck me on the swing, baby,” I commanded as I withdrew my fingers from her. Taking her hips in my hands, I pulled her into my lap and she straddled me. I lifted my hips so she could feel my hard-on and she whined in anticipation.

  After several unsuccessful attempts to unfasten my jeans, she finally took over and eventually freed my cock. I hooked my thumb around her panties and shorts, bringing them to the side once again so I could access her moist folds. She sank herself onto me and we both groaned in pleasure.

  Her lips met mine and she kissed me hard. Sucking my lip into her mouth, she bit down on it. I couldn’t even fucking feel it. All that I could feel was her delicious pussy as it gripped my shaft.

  She cried out my name and shuddered around me. The incredible sensation sent my dick into a frenzy as it released its hot contents. Neither of us had moved, and we were still conjoined when she started to cry. Fuck this.

  “I need a fucking cigarette,” I seethed into her hair. All of these groupies were exactly the same with their feelings and shit.

  She jerked her face up off my chest and her teary eyes met my glare. “What is wrong with you? Did you take something?”

  “Bitch, go the fuck home. Party’s over. Need me to call you a cab?”

>   The things I was saying to her felt wrong somehow. She slid off of me and stomped into the house, slamming the door behind her. Fuck it. Groupies were so needy once you fucked them and told them to go. After stuffing my cock back into my pants, I leaned back on the swing and passed out.

  He never came to bed last night, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass. I was pissed that he would talk to me the way he had last night. Clearly, he had been messed up on something besides the alcohol I’d tasted on him. When had he even had time to do it?

  It was still really early in the morning and I could hear Mr. Acer’s loud snores in the next room. Once I’d crawled out of bed, I located my running clothes and tennis shoes so I could dress.

  I pulled my hair into a ponytail then went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face and brush my teeth. The house was still dark since the sun hadn’t risen yet. Quietly, I made it to the refrigerator and snagged a bottle of water for my run.

  Anxiety filled me right before I opened the front door, knowing that he would still be on the porch. Gaining some courage, I slipped out the front door and spied a glance at him. He was in the same position I had left him in. Of course, he still looked sexy as hell with no shirt on and wild hair.

  He groaned and lifted his head, looking at me, confused. “June Bug?”

  I cringed at the nickname and went down the steps to the grass so I could stretch.

  “Fuck me,” he murmured as if remembering his actions from the night before. I ignored him and pulled my ankle behind me to stretch my hamstring. “June, I’m sorry. Whatever I said last night, I didn’t mean it.”

  I finally looked over at him. He stood at the top of the steps, running his fingers through his hair.

  Regarding him coolly, I responded, “Sure.” Taking off in a sprint, I left him to think about his actions from the night before. It wasn’t something that I would be a part of, no matter how badly he was hurting. Leaving one sick relationship for another made no sense in my book.

  After a long run, my still-sore ribs were burning. I decided to head back so that I could make Mr. Acer some breakfast. I wasn’t sure what his schedule was like, but I didn’t want him to have to wait for me to cook. The porch was empty when I arrived. I jogged up the steps and opened the door, surprised to smell bacon cooking.

 

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