Southern Seduction

by Alcorn, N. A.

  “I guess you’re right. I’m just tryin’ not to screw this up. I’ve dropped all them other girls and kept my distance as much as possible. I wanted to give her time to get used to me. Oh hell, Mama, I don’t know what I’m doin’ or how to do this right. I just really want to be with her. I’ve felt it from the moment I met her. Well, when we got reacquainted,” I add.

  “Reacquainted?” She gives me a quizzical look.

  “You remember that party at the Johnsons’ when I was around thirteen or so? When they made us all leave due to family issues?” I ask.

  “Ha—family issues! What a joke! Why, that arrogant son of a bitch went off on—oh my God, Kip! Was Shelby the little girl you took under your wing that day? The one who was gettin’ picked on?” She smacks my arm.

  “Yeah. I just remembered the other day. The whole memory came floodin’ back, Mama.”

  “It’s kismet! I knew it! I knew there was somethin’ about her on that very first day! Oh, Kip, God does work in mysterious ways!” She hugs me. Mama gets so excited over things like this.

  “What’s kismet?” Shelby asks as she walks in.

  “Nothin’,” I answer quickly, ignorin’ the look Mama gives me. “What’s that you got there?” I ask as she heads over.

  “Just some toast and more tea for you.” She smiles warmly.

  “Thanks, baby.” I take it from her and notice the uncomfortable look that comes across her face. Shit. I may be overdoin’ it with calling her “baby.”

  “I’m so happy that you two are gonna give this thing between you a go!” Mama gets up and hugs her.

  “Um ...” Shelby trails off, and my heart plummets. Um? What does that mean?

  “All right, well, I’ll let you two kids have some privacy.” Mama releases Shelby.

  “Uh, we don’t need that. I mean ... he’s feeling better now, so I’ll, um ...” she stops her stammering. “I’ll go check on the horses, especially Lucky, and also, um—”

  “What’s with all the ums, Shelby?” I cut her off. Yes, I came off snappy. Wouldn’t you? Here I am thinkin’ we’re moving in the right direction, and she’s already backpedaling. Well, that’s how it feels, anyhow. I probably shouldn’t have snapped, though. It made her jump a little, and now her eyes are huge. Buggin’ out, even. “Sorry,” I murmur.

  “I have a paper due tomorrow that I’m only half done with. If I could have the rest of the day off after I see to the horses, I’d really appreciate it. I mean, Kip seems to be feeling much better.” She looks at my mother and offers me not one single glance.

  “The rest of the day, Shelby?” I don’t even try to hide my disappointment. What in the hell has changed after twenty minutes? I don’t understand it—she was openin’ up to me.

  “Come on, baby girl.” Mama turns her, wrapping her arm around her back. “I’ve got a satchel of apples for you to bring down to the stables.” And with that, they leave.

  Be patient, Kip ... just be patient.

  I look around as I head down to the stables. This is day three since Shelby left the other morning. It’s the first day I fully have my strength back, and the first day I might be able to see her. She’s been avoiding me like crazy—pretty successfully, too!

  I’d like to say I have what I’m going to tell her all planned in my head, but I haven’t a clue. I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out why she rebuilt her wall so quickly. Just when I start thinking I’m probably also not going to see her today, I walk over to Lucky’s stall and find her massaging him.

  Her hands glide over his muscles so patiently. She’s got gorgeous hands with long fingers, and I think about them massaging me like that. My jeans become painfully tight between that thought and just taking the sight of her in. God, she’s gorgeous. Her long red hair is braided tightly down her back. She’s wearing a blue tank top and, good Lord, short jean shorts. Would ya look at the legs on her?!

  “Gah!” She jumps when she turns and sees me. “Jesus Christ, Kip!” Her hand goes to her heart. I do have a habit of creeping up on her.

  “Sorry, ba ... Shelby,” I quickly correct myself.

  “Is there something you need?” She reaches down and closes her schoolbook. I don’t answer her. We both know what I need. She stands back up and we stare at each other for a few minutes.

  “Grab your purse. I’m takin’ you to that bank.” I finally give in.

  “No. I’m not going. I changed my mind.” She looks down and shuffles her feet over the dirt.

  “You can’t keep runnin’, baby,” I sigh. And yeah, I went there. Damn it, I don’t care.

  “I’m not running,” she says defensively.

  “You are!” I get stern with her. “You’re runnin’ from your feelings for me, and from the closure you might get from whatever is in that box.”

  “I’m not running from you, Kip. I’m just trying to sort things out. I don’t like how comfortable I feel with you. It’s not right. It’s too fast.”

  “It doesn’t feel right?” I take a few steps toward her—cautiously.

  “It feels very right, Kip, which is why it doesn’t seem right.” She shakes her head.

  “Well, we’ll figure that all out. Now, what about the box?”

  “What if I open that dang thing up and I get information that will destroy me? What if I don’t like what I find? Then what?” She starts to tear up.

  “Whatever it is, I’ll be right there with you. You’re not alone, Shelby. As long as I’m around,” I gently pull her to me by her hip and palm her right cheek, “you’ll never be alone.” I lean down and press my lips to hers, then sigh with relief when I feel her pressing back into mine. I open my mouth and suck on her bottom lip before darting my tongue in. Her slight moan does nothing to lessen the burden on my jeans. There’s so much igniting in me—I have to dig deep to not take her like a Neanderthal. “Please,” I pant against her mouth, “don’t stay away from me anymore. Don’t be afraid of what we’re feelin’.”

  “I’m damaged, Kip,” she whispers. I feel my heart break. That’s all she had to say, those two words, and I know exactly what that son of a bitch did to her.

  “You are perfect.” I palm both sides of her face and stare her in the eyes so she knows I mean it. She tries to shake her head, but I tighten my grip. “You. Are. Perfect,” I emphasize. We stand like this for, Christ, I don’t know how long, ‘til suddenly her dam breaks and she sobs uncontrollably. I pull her to my chest like I did the other day, kissing her hair and telling her over and over again how perfect she is. “Nobody will ever hurt you again. Nobody, ya hear?!” I yank my handkerchief out of my back pocket and hand it to her. After a moment, she looks up at me and sniffles into my hankie one last time as she nods. “You ready to do this? You gotta do it like a Band-Aid, baby.” I grab her hand and squeeze.

  “I’m scared,” she says.

  “I know. Come on,” I coax her gently. Slowly, Shelby follows my guidance and we head out of the stables and to the house for her to get her purse. After a few minutes, she reappears and we get into my truck to head off. Good thing, too, because I see Missy walking toward the ranch. We both wave to her, but I continue on. Missy shoots me a dirty look as we pass.

  “What was that look about?” Shelby turns her head, following her cousin with her gaze.

  “Probably ‘cause I didn’t stop. You know Missy, though—she’d be talking our ears off. I just want to get you down there and get this over with.” I glance over just in time to catch her nod of agreement.

  Within ten minutes, we are downtown and parked outside of the bank. We both stare at it.

  “You ready, baby?” I squeeze her hand.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She gives me a meek smile.

  We climb back into my truck. Shelby sits in the passenger seat, staring at the large, bulky manila envelope in her lap. She didn’t want to open it inside the bank, and I don’t blame her. The time it took to get that envelope was draining in its own right. Luckily, Shelby was sma
rt enough to call ahead a few weeks ago and ask what she needed, identification-wise, in order to collect this envelope in place of her mother. We definitely could’ve been there a lot longer and come out empty-handed. We almost did, actually, but then Shelby found her mother’s death certificate in her purse.

  I start up the truck and grab her hand, holding it the whole way home. She seems so tense—and I know I sure am. I’m dying to know what’s in that envelope. Within in ten minutes, we’re back at the ranch and things seem pretty quiet, beyond the usual animal clatter and whatnot.

  We head inside and Shelby grabs a note from my mother off the table. That’s where Mama always leaves her notes for us when she’s out.

  “They’ve gone off to the farmers’ market in town. She says we should join them if we’re up for it.”

  “Ah, yes. It’s Festival Week here in Rison.”

  “Festival week?”

  “Yep. It’s a pretty big deal around here. We’ll go tonight. There are rodeo shows and other events during the day, and then a carnival at night. I bet that’s where the family is now.” I grab the paper from her to glance at it.

  “So ... we’re all ... um ... alone.” She shifts from foot to foot and chews at her lip.

  I touch her cheek before leaning down to peck her lips.

  “You’re safe with me. I will never do anythin’ you don’t want me to do. I think you know this, Shelby. You just need to trust that feelin’ in your gut,” I breathe before pullin’ her in for another kiss. Reluctantly, I let her step back. She stares up into my eyes—studyin’ me, I feel. She gives me a curt nod as if she’s made a decision and grabs my hand. I follow as she tugs me along. She says nothin’ as she walks backward, leadin’ me down the hall, and opens the door to my room. I swallow hard in anticipation, though I don’t know what the hell I think I’m anticipatin’. Sometimes, I’m jus’ plain ashamed of where my thoughts go to. I close the door behind me and bring my eyes back to her.

  “Kip ...” she trails off. She walks over to my dresser and puts the envelope down. She grips its front edges as she leans in and lowers her head. She inhales deeply. I walk up behind her and slide my hands up her back to her shoulders. She brings her head back up and circles her neck around, seemingly enjoying the light massage I’m giving her.

  “What’s on your mind, baby?” I trail soft kisses down her neck.

  “Kip, the uh, the last man who touched me ...” she pauses. “He, um ... didn’t have my permission to do so,” she says quietly. My hands descend back down and rest on her hips. I let the nook of her neck cradle my head as I wait for her to finish. I can pretty much sense that there is more to this.

  She takes in another deep breath and releases it forcefully.

  “In fact, I have been touched by three men ... all without my permission,” she adds. I grip her hips tightly, trying to contain the rage washing over me. I knew—well, assumed—she had been a victim of rape, but I never considered it bein’ more than one man.

  “How ...?” I can’t even spit out the rest of the question. It’s not just one, and I can’t get my head on straight to figure out which to ask first. How many times? How long? How come nobody helped? How could he do this to her? There are too many hows, and I’m afraid they’ll have no whys.

  “He was a drunk. He couldn’t hold down a job. So he got money by letting his—” she hiccups a gasp.

  “Shh,” I whisper in her ear. Her shoulders shake and I reach around her waist to hold her tightly to me. She crooks her face back and into my neck, her breath so hot on my skin. After a few minutes, I feel her lips dance lightly just below my ear. My eyes roll back into my head and damn it if the material of my jeans ain’t screaming again. “Shelby,” I murmur. She turns to me and toes up for a kiss. I comply, of course. I would never turn down a kiss from her—but I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t treadin’ on the side of uncertainty here. She just revealed somethin’ very traumatic to me. I’m not sure where her mind’s at. “Shelby.” I pull away.

  “Kip,” she says, puttin’ her hand over my mouth to silence me. “I don’t know what’s in that envelope. What I do know is that I have no control over it or how it will affect me. That has pretty much been the theme for most of my life. I had no control over losing my real father when I was young, or picking who got to take his place. I had no control over my mother’s death, or my brother’s. I had no control over who got to touch me. Nor how.” She stops and takes in a much-needed breath. “This may seem silly to you, but I feel as if I have a small window of opportunity to actually control something.”

  I move her hand away. “Shelby, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Let me finish, please,” she pleads. I nod and zip my lip. “Kip, there’s been something between us since the moment we met. It scares me. I’ve never felt it before. Now, I’m not going to sit here and label it anything but certainty. I am most certain, Kip Taylor, that you will never mean to hurt me. I am certain that no matter what happens in the future, I will never regret my time with you. I am certain that I am about to rush into something that I never would have even considered a month ago. I am certain that I no longer care about stuff like that. Life is short, Kip. I’ve had too much wrong done to me, and too much grief. I am certain that what has happened to me is only a chapter or two in my life—it is not my entire story. I am certain that as much as I try to move on, those chapters will haunt me. They are awful memories. I want new ones to wash those away. I am certain I want you to be the one to give them to me, Kip. I want to know—want to feel—what it’s like to be touched by a man that I want to be touched by.” She pauses, and I think it may be because my jaw’s just dropped. “My life may or may not change when I open that envelope. I want to have control over at least one thing in my life before whatever is in there takes it away.” She finally stops and our staring contest begins. This whole thing feels so heavy. I feel like it needs to be lightened up, even though what she’s going through is no laughing matter.

  “But, Shelby, are you certain that you are certain?” I smirk playfully. Yeah, I’m a smartass. She better get used to that now, right? She stares at me for another moment until the corner of her eyes wrinkle and she laughs lightly at my comment—thank God.

  “Certainly I’m certain.” She bites back her smile.

  “Wow,” I say, with a gush of breath. Shelby loses her smile. “I just ... Shelby, you will always have control over things in your life. It just may not be in the way you’d like. You may not be able to change a situation, but you can certainly control how you deal with it and how you let it affect you.” I want her to know that she’s not really helpless at all.

  “Right,” she sighs. She turns and grabs the envelope before trying to head toward the door. “Sorry I got weird on you,” she mumbles. I grab her arm, guiding her back to me, and take the envelope from her hands. I toss it back onto the dresser.

  “Don’t walk away from me. And don’t ever be embarrassed about tellin’ me anythin’. I would never judge you. I am not tellin’ you no, Shelby, just that you are never really helpless. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not in control.” I chuck her chin so she’ll look up at me. “Now, I would love nothin’ more than to make a beautiful memory with you right now. But I need to know you one-hundred percent really want this.”

  “A hundred and fifty percent, Kip.”

  “We’re makin’ a new memory for both of us. This isn’t just about you.” I sigh. “Shelby, I’ve never made love to a woman before.” I stop when her eyes go wide. “Well, wait a minute now, I have had sex—but that’s all it was.” Her eyes calm down as I clear the air. “I’ve never cared for a girl enough to cherish her. I’ve never even had a girl in my room before. But now I’m standing before you and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I want you here, Shelby. I want you in my bed. I want to wake up smellin’ your hair and hearin’ you breathe. I want to cherish you—every inch of you. I won’t label it either, beca
use I know we’re not ready for labels, but you should know I very much feel the same way you do. I can’t explain it. All I know is that it’s right. You’re right.” I grasp her face and finally pull her in for the mother of all kisses I’ve been dying for. We head back to my bed like two kids slow dancing ... ya know ... completely uncoordinated. This makes me think of something—a realization, really. I pull away. “Shelby.”

  “What?” She tries to catch her breath.

  “This is our first time.” I stare deeply into her eyes.

  “I know, Kip.” She laughs a little.

  “No. You don’t get what I mean.” I shake my head. “There was no one else before us that mattered. They don’t exist anymore. This is our first time. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Kip! Yes, I do!” She pulls me in for another kiss until the back of her legs bump against the mattress.

  I take in a shaky breath when her fingers run over the band of my jeans. We stop kissing, and she stares into my eyes as she unbuckles my belt. I feel the effect of her down to the pit of my belly. Go slow, Kip. Go slow. I have to keep chanting this in my head, because to be honest with you, I want to do this any way but slow.

  I pull her tank top up over her head and toss it aside. While Shelby has no freckles on her face, they sprinkle her shoulders—and it’s beautiful. She’s like a work of art. I lean down and paint her freckles with my lips. Christ, she smells so good. I close my eyes tightly as she yanks my belt free of my jeans. I take the tie out of her hair and unbraid it. I continue to taste her skin as I work at the clasp of her bra, then grasp the straps at her shoulders. Staring into her eyes, I slowly guide them down. The bra hits the floor. I swallow nervously before bringing my eyes down to look at her. God, this really does feel like my first time. Perfect. Then again ... I wasn’t expecting anything less.