Georgia Clay (Southern Promises Book 1)

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Georgia Clay (Southern Promises Book 1) Page 9

by KG Fletcher


  “Shit, Katie. I’m sorry. I…I didn’t use a condom.” His eyes were full of worry. “I got caught up in your amazing blowjob…”

  “Clay, it’s okay. I’m on birth control. I’m clean too. I was going to tell you that this weekend, but we haven’t done much talking…”

  His expression showed relief as he exhaled. “I’m clean too.” Filling the small space that was between them, he kissed her forehead. “You’re amazing.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheek before he picked up his t-shirt and her panties from the floor.

  “I need to go freshen up if you don’t mind. Care to show me to the bathroom?” She took her panties out of his hand.

  He smiled and walked over to the barn door, sliding it open for her on the track system, his bare back muscles flexing magnificently. Flicking on the bedroom lights, he motioned with his free hand. “The bathroom is right in there. Please, make yourself at home.”

  Katie nodded and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. The wheels clacked along the hardwood floor as she rolled it across the room into the master suite. The ample space was sparse with only a king-sized bed, dresser, and nightstand. Looking up, she noticed a vast skylight, the lights of a giant skyscraper flooding the bedspread in spheres of light.

  “What is that building?” she asked. The distinctive architectural design with dark windows was impressive.

  Clay looked up. “That’s the Batman building.”

  She looked at him with chagrin.

  “No, really. Doesn’t it resemble the mask of superhero Batman? That’s what everyone calls it. It’s the AT&T building, but the Batman building sounds way cooler.”

  “Huh…” Katie contemplated, looking up at it with wide eyes. The giant building did look kind of like Batman’s mask.

  Behind the closed door of the giant master bathroom, Katie cleaned herself up and quickly refreshed her makeup. Smoothing her hair back with a bristle brush, she couldn’t help but smile at her reflection in the giant mirror, thrilled to be connecting so passionately with Clay. She hoped that they could have a heart-to-heart conversation at some point about his past issues from his childhood. It saddened her that he had gone through something traumatic that kept him from moving on his career. For him to truly open up to her would speak volumes about his character and his intentions. She hoped their relationship could continue to evolve and she could get closer to him. However, if all he wanted were random weekends of great sex, she wasn’t opposed to that either. He was an incredible lover. Just the thought of his hands all over her body made her face flush. But she was ready for more, Clay Watkins making her heart palpitate like no other guy. It would be very easy to fall for him, hard.

  “Just breathe,” she told her reflection in the mirror.

  “That was quick,” Clay said, standing up with a beer bottle in his hands. He had already dressed, looking extra hot with his messy hair.

  Katie grabbed her beer off the island and took a big swig. “What do you want to do now?” She leaned against the sturdy marble and watched him approach her.

  “I’m kinda hungry. You want to walk down the street and check out some of the local hangs? All the tourists should be clearing out by this time of the night.”

  “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  They walked hand in hand on the old sidewalk in the summer night not saying a word. Katie stole glances of her handsome date, wondering what he was thinking. They walked several blocks down the busy stretch of road that reminded her of the Vegas strip with all the multi-colored neon signs blinking in bar windows and live music filtering into the air. They finally came up to an old, renovated building called Acme Feed and Seed. As Clay pulled the handle of the big door, she could tell he was grinning.

  “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

  “Not unless you’re hungry for some chicken feed.” Her comment made him laugh out loud as she walked into a vast open space with a two-toned wooden ceiling. The famous Acme red and white checkerboard print was prevalent in the dining area.

  Because the earlier Thursday tourist crowd had thinned out, it didn’t take them long to order food and drinks from the bar on the first floor. Clay helped her carry her Moscow-mule up the stairs to the third-floor rooftop where they found a table for two with no problem.

  “This is the best scenic view of the city,” he informed her, taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. “That’s the Cumberland River right there, and you can see the Batman building over your shoulder.”

  She swiveled her body and looked up to see the familiar skyscraper. The earlier humidity had dissipated, and a light breeze had picked up. “It’s a beautiful city.”

  “That it is,” he replied with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here… with me, Katie.” He looked at her with intensity, tiny flecks of gold noticeable in his caramel eyes.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks, delighted by his remark. “I’m glad to be here with you too.”

  A waitress delivered the food in red plastic baskets. They were overflowing with hot chicken sandwiches with American cheese and pickles on white bread and hand-cut sweet potato fries. Katie didn’t realize how hungry she was until her taste buds exploded after the first bite of comfort food.

  “You like it?” Clay asked, his expression youthful.

  “Mmmhumm,” she replied with her mouth full. “What is the sauce on this sandwich? God, it’s so good!”

  He chuckled watching her. “It’s some kind of green peppercorn sauce. It’s my favorite.”

  They enjoyed a trio of musicians in the corner playing classic bluegrass, tapping their feet and clapping after each song. It was so comfortable being with Clay. She had never had this much fun with a man, and this was just the first night.

  After another round of drinks, Clay signed the check and offered his hand to help her out of her seat. They strolled back toward his place, taking in the southern nightlife. Even though it was close to midnight, the lower Broadway bars were hopping. Katie held his arm tightly as they navigated around out-the-door lines at Tootsies, Layla’s, and Tequila Cowboy. Many of the younger women were decked out in Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots; the men clad in denim, some sporting cowboy hats. Music hung in the thick air like perfume. Several distinct styles echoed in the night from classic, twangy country, to bluegrass, and honky-tonk. Clay pulled her across the street and turned the corner where the sights and sounds faded. She thought he might be taking a shortcut back to his place. Stopping at an open park bench along the sidewalk, Clay waved his hand for her to sit. When they were both situated, Katie sighed happily.

  “That’s a beautiful old church,” she whispered contentedly, staring at the large building across the street.

  Clay rested his elbows on his knees and palmed his hands looking up at the building. “That’s the Mother Church of country music, Katie. That’s the Ryman.”

  She inhaled quickly and stared at the century-old building with stained-glass windows. Dramatic up-lighting highlighted the brick structure making it look regal and essential, which Katie knew it was. She also knew she needed to get Clay to open up about his past.

  “Why won’t you play there?” she asked softly, staring at the structure. She turned and admired his handsome profile. “What happened? Please tell me, Clay.”

  He ran his hand down his chin as if struggling to find the words. She watched him stand and pace a few feet before stopping and shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

  “When I was a little boy…I didn’t talk.”

  Katie furrowed her brow. “What do you mean you didn’t talk?”

  He sighed. “I had a real bad speech impediment. I stuttered.”

  Flashes of Clay as a young child not speaking made her heart clench. She gripped her hands in her lap determined to understand. “Go on…”

  “Mama and Daddy were beside themselves with worry. I was picked on and bullied at school. It was terrible. They didn’t know what to do.” He ran his hand through his hair and looked up at the Ryman. “Daddy was a
huge fan of the Grand Ole Opry. Used to watch or listen to the broadcasts when he wasn’t on the road. There was this one time he saw a country fella by the name of Mel Tillis. Ever heard of him?” He turned to her and waited for a response.

  “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

  He nodded and continued. “Well, this guy, Mel, was a singer-songwriter. He wrote country hits for Kenny Rogers and Waylon Jennings. He had a huge hit in the seventies called, “Coca-Cola Cowboy.” Daddy saw him on the Opry, and when he spoke, he stuttered. It was crazy because his speech impediment didn’t affect his singing voice at all, just his speaking voice. Daddy got an idea and went out the next day to the local pawn shop and bought me my first guitar.”

  Katie could feel her heart thumping with love for Clay’s daddy, whom she had never met. The way he talked about him and what he did for his only child was a precious gift.

  “I wrote my first song when I was eight years old. My parents paid for guitar lessons and found a speech therapist in every town we ever lived in. They sacrificed having a home of their own to help me succeed as a human being.”

  Clay turned his head away from Katie, and she noticed him swipe his hand across his cheek. Tears pricked her own eyes as she realized he was crying.

  “I got better, Katie. Thanks to music. It saved my life.” He shifted and looked right at her. “It would mean more to me than anything in the world to play on the Ryman stage—to honor my mother and father for the sacrifices they’ve made.”

  His expression was pained and filled with anguish. Katie reached her hand to him. He took it, and she pulled him back on the bench, clutching his fingers in her own. “Then, why don’t you?”

  She watched him stare at their intertwined hands for a few seconds. “I don’t want to lose control. I’ve had setbacks in the past, usually when I’m under a lot of stress or when I’m anxious or nervous. Believe me, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to perform on the big stages—to be a real touring artist. I’ve always shoved those thoughts in the back of my mind thinking I could never do it. My feelings have changed the older I get. Sometimes I feel like I’m ready, but then…” He stared off at the illuminated church. “God, this would be such a big deal. Playing at the Ryman Auditorium—the place my daddy always dreamed I’d play.” He paused and looked at her with frightened eyes. “ I…I just don’t know if I could handle it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They didn’t make love that night in Clay’s bed. Lying in each other’s arms, they talked. It was as if a fire hydrant had been kicked open, their conversation overflowing with thoughts about life, ambitions, dreams, and the future. Katie had a newfound respect for Clay because of what he so intimately shared with her sitting on the park bench across the street from the Ryman. Everything made sense. She thought back to their senior year in high school and remembered how quiet and shy he was—how he only opened up through music when he was on stage performing in that silly variety show. How she wished she knew then what she knew now, admittedly, she would have tried to get to know him better. She was grateful that fate had given her a second chance, bringing them together again after all these years.

  “Where do you see yourself in the next decade?” he asked tenderly, stroking her bare back with his fingertips. His other arm was stretched and perched behind his head.

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I suppose I could go for a bigger position at my company. Take a trip overseas somewhere?”

  “What about relationship-wise? You ever think about settling down with someone? Having a family?”

  Katie shifted, staring up through the skylight at the illuminated twin spires of the Batman building that scraped the sky six hundred feet into the air. “Every girl thinks about that, I suppose. I’ve just never fixated on it. I figure if it’s meant to be, the right guy will come along and sweep me off my feet.”

  “So, you’re a romantic?” His tired voice tinged with humor.

  She rested her chin on her hands on his bare chest. “I like a nice Southern gentleman if that’s what you’re asking. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Pulling his arm from under his head, Clay pulled her closer to his chest, sighing in the darkness. “Nope. Nothing wrong with that at all. It’s a good thing I’m from Georgia.”

  “It’s my favorite state in the US,” she teased, knowing he was baiting her. “Clay?”

  “Huh?” he replied sleepily.

  “Thanks for being so transparent earlier. I know this is a hard decision for you.”

  He was silent for several seconds before he kissed her forehead lightly. “Good night, Pretty Girl.”

  Closing her eyes, she mumbled. “Good night, Georgia Clay.”

  ***

  Watching Katie sleep transfixed Clay. Staring at her beautiful porcelain face and full lips parted slightly in slumber, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was dreaming. He hoped her dreams were blissful. She lay on her side next to him with her hands folded under her head. He so wanted to reach out and touch her—to tuck her hair behind her ear and run his fingers along her soft cheek. He wanted to wake her up and make love to her delicious, curvy body slowly and intentionally. The growing morning bulge between his legs caused him to shift uncomfortably as he turned his thoughts to their long conversation the night before. Discussing his past childhood trauma was something he had never done with another woman. He kept that part of his life a secret, not wanting to carry any baggage into a relationship at the risk of being tormented by the opposite sex if his impediment were to resurface. There was something about Katie that made it easy for him to open up—to talk to her honestly and emotionally about what he had gone through. Her reactions were astonishing, her concern touching. He now understood her success in the business world, because she was such a great listener. What he couldn’t comprehend was how she had remained single for so many years.

  He watched her long lashes flutter; her large doe eyes suddenly fixated on his face, her lazy grin immediate.

  “Good morning,” she said in a low, hoarse voice.

  “Good morning, Pretty Girl,” he replied, stretching his arm out to touch her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

  She turned and lay on her back extending her arms and legs in a cat-like stretch. “Like a rock. How about you?”

  He smiled. “Like a stump.”

  They looked at each other for several seconds before Clay couldn’t help himself and slid his fingers under the sheets, across her warm tummy, down to her soft mound. She closed her eyes and moaned, opening her legs for him.

  “I wasn’t expecting to wake up to that,” she said breathily. He explored her secret garden with his hand, making her writhe with desire.

  “You like it?” he whispered, watching her body come alive.

  “Yes,” she exhaled, gyrating against his hand.

  Lifting the sheet, he straddled her and gripped his boner between her legs sliding into her wetness ever-so-slowly. Katie gasped, looking up at him with her mouth wide open.

  “Are you sore?”

  “Yes—but it’s a good sore. Don’t stop,” she insisted.

  He leaned his forearms on either side of her head, captivated by her beauty as they pulsed slowly together. “You feel incredible. So tight and wet.”

  “You feel so good…”

  His hips started to move faster, his climax on the cusp of explosion. “This isn’t going to take long.”

  “Yeah—morning wood and all,” she giggled, sending a tickling vibration to his sensitive appendage making him draw in a quick breath.

  “Katie, I… I’m about to come…”

  She gripped his buttocks, pulling him in deeper, which sent him into a full-blown orgasm within seconds. His eyes rolled back into his head as he spilled into her, his entire body racked with incredible pleasure. He collapsed on top of her taking in big gulps of air. When he could muster the strength, he lifted himself up to see her smiling at him.

  “Was it good? It sure felt good,”
she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Yeah,” he panted. “It was great.”

  Pulling out, he lay on his side propping his head on his bent arm. Beads of sweat glistened all over his body, the hair above his forehead sticking to his skin. He grabbed the edge of the sheet she had pulled up and yanked it off exposing her naked body in the morning light. Her eyes were huge and dark, watching his every move as he ran his free hand over her lips and down to her breasts, her chest rising and falling with anticipation.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he tantalized, rolling a nipple between his thumb and index finger.

  She raised an eyebrow before closing her eyes and laying her head back on the pillow, fully surrendering to the desire. He reached between her exposed legs tugging on her pubic hair before dipping his fingers into her pool, flicking her swollen nub. He was quick and efficient, his touch sending jolts of desire throughout her body. Her legs started to tense, and she brought them together at the knees entrapping his hand.

  “No, baby. Keep your legs wide open,” he instructed, forcefully pushing her legs apart.

  She whimpered trying to maintain an open stance. Clay stroked her faster and faster, her hips lifting off the mattress as the orgasm hit her full on.

  “Clay!” she cried out, clenching the bed sheets tightly around her. He continued to stroke her delicately, entranced by her exquisiteness in the moment. When she finally opened her eyes to look at him, she flushed before hugging him, hiding her face in his neck.

  “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. Pulling back, he tried to look her in the eye. She avoided his stare until he tipped her chin up to look at him. “What is it, Katie?”

  She offered him a tiny smile. “You’re an amazing lover, Clay. I’ve never felt like that before. My body was…totally out of control.”

  Her comment left him flabbergasted, and he was afraid if he tried to speak at that moment, he would stutter with bewilderment. He embraced her, contentedly exhaling as he gathered his wits. “You’re the amazing one, Katie. I’m a lucky man waking up with you in my arms.”

 

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