My Sweet Escape

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  He leaned just a fraction closer to me. “If that’s what you want. Hell, I know it’s what I want, but we’ll only do it if you want.”

  Oh, that was it.

  “Dusty?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you stop being a gentleman for, like, a little while?”

  A sexy smile spread across his lips.

  “I think I can manage.”

  * * *

  Kissing in the car wasn’t as nice as kissing on the couch. There were too many things in the way and pointy objects, like the shifter, that seemed out to get us.

  “Backseat,” I said as I tried to climb on top of him and failed for the third time. We both got out of the car and met on the passenger side as he shoved me up against the car, pressing against me and attacking my mouth with everything he had. Maybe we wouldn’t even make it to the backseat. I was aware that it was freezing out, but my body was on fire.

  Dusty reached around me and opened the back door.

  “Oh, shit. Give me a second.” His backseat was a mess, littered with textbooks and clothes and other guy crap. He swept it all on the floor and tried to clean it up as much as he could while I waited.

  “Good enough,” I said, pushing him aside and diving onto the seat, grabbing his sweatshirt and pulling him down with me.

  “Shit! Did I hurt you?” Just a little, but I didn’t care. He straddled me and reached to close the door.

  “I’m good. Come here.”

  Sweatshirts were very good for yanking on, I’d discovered. His mouth returned to mine; his hands went back to roaming my body, dipping under my clothes and wiggling into new spaces they hadn’t been before. This...this was living. Pure, passionate living.

  He paused and pulled back to look at my face in the dark. The streetlights cast everything in an orange glow. “You’re so beautiful. How are you so beautiful?”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” I didn’t want to make his head too big, but the more I looked at him, the more I realized how gorgeous he was. I’d been in some serious denial early on.

  “Jos, I really, really want to continue this,” he said, pulling my sweatshirt aside so he could kiss where my neck met my chest, “but I don’t think the backseat of my car is the place for it. You’re not a backseat fling.”

  “I should hope not,” I said as he kept kissing lower. Despite saying he wanted to hit the pause button, he was doing anything but. He was right, though. I didn’t want to have my first sexual experience in the backseat of a car with what felt like a pen, or something else sharp, poking into my ass the whole time.

  “You’re right, you’re right.” I was panting a little, and he definitely had another hard-on.

  “I don’t think my dick is ever going to recover from being around you,” he said, holding himself up on his elbows.

  “Well, you could always get one of those things they used in the Middle Ages. It was like a harness that had these sharp metal points, so every time you’d—”

  He kissed my mouth so I couldn’t finish. “I’m begging you. Please stop talking about it, Red.”

  “I was only trying to help. If you want, I could help in other ways.” I reached for his pants, and he tried to leap away from me and ended up banging his head on the roof of the car.

  “Shit!” I should have been more worried about his skull, but I laughed.

  “You just...keep your hands to yourself. I’ll take care of it.” He rubbed his head.

  “Poor baby,” I said, getting up on my elbows and feeling the top of his head gently. Yup, he was definitely going to have a bump. I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched them to his head.

  “It’s late. You should get to bed.” I wished I could ask him to come with me, and then he could sneak out of the house before dawn, but the chances of that were so freaking slim, with Hannah asleep in the next room. Besides, we couldn’t really do what I would want to do with someone in the next room without making a little bit of noise. Those walls were pretty damn thin. There was always the shower, though...

  “Good night, Red.” I got one more chaste kiss on the lips before he got out and pulled me up after him.

  “Good night, Dusty.” Well, that was pretty normal for a goodbye. Finally, I’d gotten the hang of it. I walked back toward the house, as slow as I could.

  “Jos?” I’d been waiting to hear my name.

  “Yeah?” I turned and started walking backward.

  “Would you like to come over tomorrow? To my place?”

  “You mean your shit shack?”

  “Yeah. I’ll make it as unshitty as possible for you. But I thought it was one of the only places we could be...without anyone watching us. I want to spend time with you without worrying that someone is going to walk in.” Oh. Oh.

  He must have seen the realization dawn on my face.

  “That is definitely not what I’m asking you over for.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He gave me a look. “Jos.”

  “Okay, okay. Yes, I would love to come over. Do you mind if I tell Hannah? Then she can be my alibi. I’m guessing we should keep this on the down low?”

  “She seems like the kind of girl who can keep a secret. Plus, I think she wants us to have some time alone almost as much as I do.” That was definitely true.

  “So, tomorrow?” he said. “I’ll text you.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I’d reached the steps, so I was going to have to turn away from him.

  “I’m counting the minutes,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving my face.

  “Me, too.”

  Chapter 17

  Sneaking back into the house turned out to be easy, and I got back in bed without anyone the wiser.

  Despite only getting a few hours of restless sleep, I woke the next morning as excited as I used to get on the first day of school. Yes, I was that kid who couldn’t wait for summer to be over so I could go back to school. In some ways, school was my safe haven from the chaos in my numerous homes. School made sense. It had order and structure at a time when I needed it.

  I was up even before Hannah, but when I came out of the bathroom from brushing my teeth she was moving.

  “Does your hair always look this spectacular in the morning?” It looked like a stylist had spent hours teasing it to the max.

  She tried to pat it down and failed.

  “Pretty much. And if you tell anyone, or ever take a picture, I will kill you.” She yawned and stumbled to her feet. “Can I use your shower?”

  “Sure, go ahead. Towels are in the cabinet and you can use whatever you want. Need some clothes?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.” Hannah was taller than me, but I found some pants that I had to roll up and a shirt that worked.

  “I know we’re close, but I’m not sure I’m ready to swap undies just yet,” she said. “I’ll just keep mine on.”

  “Sounds good. Listen, I have a favor to ask you about when you’re more awake.”

  She gave me a thumbs-up and shuffled to the bathroom.

  While Hannah took her shower I went upstairs to see who was actually awake. Mase was lying across the dining table, a cup of coffee steaming inches from his face. Darah closed the fridge and yawned, running her hand through her hair. I’d never seen it so messy before. Definitely sex hair. At least somebody got some last night. Well, with someone else other than their hand, which was what I was reduced to after everything with Dusty. It was the most epic sex with myself I’d ever had.

  “You want me to make some eggs?” Darah said to Mase. “Hey, Jos. You and Hannah sleep okay?”

  “Yeah, great,” I lied through my teeth.

  Mase mumbled something incoherent.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault, babe,” Darah said.<
br />
  Taylor and Hunter came down, followed by Renee and Paul as Darah got out the skillet and started making eggs. I decided to help by making massive amounts of toast and handing everyone a full cup of coffee when they walked into the kitchen.

  Hannah emerged from downstairs looking significantly more chipper. I handed her a cup of coffee as she dried her hair with a towel.

  “Sugar?” I got the sugar jar and started spooning it into her cup. “Say when.”

  I put about four tablespoons in when she stopped me.

  “That’s disgusting,” I said, sipping my Lemon Zinger. I was definitely addicted to the stuff now.

  “Meh,” she said, taking one of the last available seats. It was Sunday, so that meant cleaning, but it looked like it was going to be a while.

  My phone vibrated in my sweatshirt pocket.

  Okay, I can’t wait anymore. Can you be over here...nowish?

  This time I could almost feel the desperation in the little black letters. Or maybe that was just me.

  I typed out an answer.

  I have to drop Hannah off first. And get dressed in something cute.

  He responded a fraction of a second later.

  You always look cute.

  Ass kisser. But no. I need to shower.

  An hour, then?

  One hour.

  I could barely contain my excitement. Then my phone went off again.

  Bring socks. Brand-new ones.

  What the crap? Maybe he meant to say something else and got auto-corrected.

  Socks?

  That’s right, Red. Socks.

  I could just picture him saying it with a smile on his face.

  Are we making puppets? Because that’s a little weird.

  I couldn’t think of anything sexy we could do with socks, but then again, I was a virgin. Maybe it was something I had yet to learn about. I did a quick internet search and didn’t find anything illuminating.

  You’ll see. Come soon. Bring socks.

  I’d have to make a trip to Walmart to get some. That seemed like a mission Hannah would want to be in on.

  She had already downed her coffee and was washing out the cup.

  “I should get back. I have a shit ton of homework. And clothes. I’d really like to put on a fresh pair of panties,” she said. Mase choked on his toast.

  “You okay there, buddy?” Hannah gave him a look.

  “Fine. Just fine. How’s the hand?”

  Hannah held it up. You couldn’t really tell because it was all bandaged up, but she didn’t seem to be in much pain.

  “Can I check it?” Renee said. Once she’d ascertained that Hannah’s hand was just bruised and swollen, she went back to her coffee and staring off into space.

  “I’ll drive you. Do you just mind if I take a shower first?” I said, giving her a look, and I watched as she remembered I’d said earlier that I had a favor.

  “No big. Hey, do you have a comb I could borrow?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She put her cup in the dish drainer and followed me back downstairs.

  She rounded on me as soon as the door shut.

  “I’m guessing you need a favor so you can sneak away and make out with a certain boy that has gorgeous green eyes. Am I correct?”

  “Let’s just say that we sort of made up. Kind of. Anyway, we’d like some alone time, so would you be my alibi?”

  She got down on one knee and held my hand.

  “I would be honored to be your alibi anytime you want to get together with Dusty and bump your bits together.”

  I took my hand back. “That does not sound sexy. At all.”

  She shrugged and I went to my drawers. She followed and shoved me aside as I pawed through, trying to find something remotely cute.

  “Girl, you have a serious wardrobe crisis. We need to get you some new clothes ASAP. But for now, how about this?” She pulled out a green three-quarter-sleeve shirt that must have hitched a ride from my previous life.

  “This is cute. And it brings out your eyes.” She also selected a pair of dark skinny jeans that I’d bought with the intention of wearing them, but it had never actually happened.

  “He said I needed to bring socks. Brand-new ones.”

  She laid the clothes out on my bed and then went for my underwear drawer, picking out the only matching set of a black bra and panties that I owned and adding them to the pile. “Are you making puppets?”

  “That’s exactly what I said.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Okay, then. Socks.” She found a pair and set them on the bed, as well. I didn’t have much choice in footwear because it was winter and we lived in Maine and you had to wear shoes you could potentially slog through the snow in, so that meant boots nine times out of ten.

  “I’m going to shower.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  I showered as quick as I could and got dressed, wondering what to do with my hair. Dusty seemed to like it when it was down, but it was wet and it was winter and I didn’t fancy pneumonia, so I twisted it back on the sides and formed a bun. Once I was at his place I could take it down and let it dry. Maybe it would actually have some curl in it from being twisted up. Yeah, probably not.

  “Verdict?” I said, coming out and spinning around for Hannah to see.

  “You need jewelry. Other than your bracelet. Which is why, when we were buying stuff last week, I got you these.” She pulled something out of her pocket and handed them to me. They were tiny silver studs shaped like trumpeting elephants.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “But I did. Do you like them?”

  “Yeah, I do. Thank you.” I gave her a hug and then put the earrings in. They were small and understated, which I liked.

  “Perfect. Now we just have to get you some socks. Oh, by the way, are you on the pill, or anything else?”

  “Yeah, the pill.” I’d gone on it last year when I’d thought things were serious with Matt. Yes, I hadn’t planned on having sex until we were married, but that didn’t mean I thought it couldn’t happen earlier. More than anything, it was probably wishful thinking. If I’d learned anything about living with Renee, it was that you always had to protect yourself and never leave it up to the guy.

  “You got condoms?”

  This should have been a crazy uncomfortable conversation, but somehow it wasn’t.

  “My sister gave me a box when I got my period. No joke.” I’d been thirteen and so mortified I’d hidden them in the very back of my sock drawer. “And I find them periodically in my stuff, especially now. There was a box in the drawer when I got here.” I went and got it, putting a few in one of the zippered pockets on the inside of my purse.

  “Good girl. I think you’re ready.”

  “We’re not going to have sex, Hannah.”

  “Well, it won’t be long. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. The logs have been laid, the gasoline has been poured and all someone has to do is strike the match.”

  She gave me a hug and we dashed upstairs.

  “Renee? I’m going to study with Hannah today. We have this thing to work on for our class.” This was true. First step in crafting a good lie was to use something that was actually true and build upon it.

  “Okay. Just be careful. There’s supposed to be a snowstorm coming in this afternoon. If you get stranded, Mase can come get you.” He had an extra truck with a plow attached to it so we didn’t have to pay anyone to plow the driveway.

  I’d been so wrapped up in everything I hadn’t even paid attention to the weather. I hoped it didn’t cut my time with Dusty short. That would seriously suck. But then, weather forecasters were notorious for predicting a huge storm that would never happen. They’d already been wrong a
t least twice this winter.

  “Very smooth, Jos. I’m impressed,” Hannah said, giving me a high five as we drove toward the Bangor Mall.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  * * *

  Hannah gave me a lot more advice, most of which sounded like she’d gotten it from the internet or movies or from urban legends. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

  I dropped her off and had strict instructions to give her every single dirty detail when I called her that night.

  Dusty’s place was pretty easy to find from his directions. He was also right; it was a shit shack. How the crap was this building still standing?

  It kind of looked like someone had taken parts of three other buildings, glued and stapled them together on top of each other and called it good. I sent him a message saying I was here as I tried to figure out the least dangerous way to get to the front door. The porch was definitely suspect. He messaged me back that there was a set of stairs around the back, which weren’t much better than the porch, I discovered.

  If I die coming up the stairs, I’m suing you from the grave.

  I made it all the way up the steps and knocked on the door.

  “You made it,” he said, his face splitting into a smile that made my knees feel like I was still climbing the dangerous steps.

  “And I brought socks.” I didn’t know what kind to get, so I’d brought three bags. White, multicolored and a bag of knee-high argyle socks that were too cute not to buy.

  “I see that. Come on in.” He moved aside and I walked in.

  “This isn’t nearly as shitty as I was expecting. You made it sound a lot worse.” Granted, it was no Yellowfield House, but it wasn’t that bad. We stood in a tiny kitchen with room only enough for the appliances on one side and a small table and two chairs on the other. A narrow hallway led to what I assumed was the rest of the house.