Her Kind of Hero

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Her Kind of Hero Page 4

by Kathleen Dienne


  Holding hands, we set out. Derek’s property bordered a state park with a popular scenic overlook, and while the mountain hike was certain to be crowded on such a lovely Sunday, the wooded trails between his house and the parking lot were always deserted.

  By unspoken agreement, we took the left path at the first fork, and left again at the second. By always taking the left path whenever we had the choice, we would wind up at a deep pool fed by a beautiful waterfall. We had discovered it a year ago. There had been a brisk discussion where Derek had vetoed aimless wandering, and I had compromised by suggesting we always choose to turn left, and thereby avoid getting lost.

  We usually talked the whole way there and back. Today, I didn’t have much to say. Derek noticed and guessed why.

  “Thinking about that picture?”

  “Yeah. It’s creepy.”

  “Creepy is an understatement.”

  “I also can’t figure out who might have sent it. I can think of plenty of people who I’ve annoyed, and plenty of people who think I’m a bitch, but it took hate to do that to my picture.”

  “I wouldn’t have said you lead the kind of life where someone would have reason to hate you.”

  “I don’t,” I agreed. “It’s not like I’m out there dating anyone or causing trouble. I’m always with you.”

  At that, Derek gave me a weird look. He helped me over a tree root. “I don’t think I recognize the picture from anywhere. What year was that?”

  I’d recognized the swimsuit, a red halter-necked one-piece. Luke would have known it. I bought it right before going on tour with our college choir, between my junior and senior years. We’d sung at nearly every theme park on the East Coast, show tunes and a capella versions of recent pop hits. The group’s ritual was to hit the water park before each of our performances and descend on our hotel’s hot tub afterward. I was either in my choir uniform or that swimsuit for two solid months. By the end of the trip, the swimsuit had been a faded rag.

  I explained all this to Derek.

  “It would seem that someone from that group doesn’t remember you fondly,” he said.

  “That’s ridiculous. We were all one big family by the end. Didn’t Luke tell you any stories about that summer?”

  “But who else could possibly have a snapshot of you from the tour?”

  He had a point. But I couldn’t give in. “Maybe the roommate of one of the chorus members stole it?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But that would require quite a coincidence. Wasn’t there anyone on the tour you had a problem with? Or had a problem with you?”

  “I had the opposite problem. You know Anthony. He liked me a little too much for a few weeks.” I hacked at a creeper vine.

  “I always thought he had a thing for you,” Derek said lightly. “How did he take rejection?”

  “That’s the thing. He didn’t freak out when I said I wasn’t interested. He was fine with it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. He hasn’t said anything about it since that summer, and I talk to him at least once a week. When the adult choir is rehearsing, I see him even more often.”

  “I can’t believe anyone would be so blasé about being rejected.”

  “Honestly, he just sort of shrugged. His friend Mark was more pissed.”

  Derek looked alert. “Pissed how?”

  “He called me a bitch, and a tease. But he apologized, afterward. Honestly, Der, if you spent the whole summer with these guys, you’d know how it was. Mark was just like that. He’d—” I broke off.

  “He’d what?”

  “I was just thinking I saw him a couple years back. He brought the incident up. He said he just wanted me to know it wasn’t forgotten, and that I should be careful.”

  “That sounds significant.”

  I shook my head. I shouldn’t have said anything. “It wasn’t. You really did have to know these guys in that context. Mark was the guy who would go off half-cocked and say something stupid. It didn’t mean anything.”

  He tried not to look skeptical and failed. “Were you dating anyone else? I mean, did you have a reason to turn Anthony down that might make him feel better?”

  I kicked a rock off the trail. “No, I wasn’t, and not really. He was nice enough. Just kind of boring.”

  This time the weird look from Derek was more pointed. “And you can’t handle boring.”

  “So? I was barely twenty-one. Is there something wrong with wanting passion? Excitement?”

  “No, but maybe some people just aren’t exciting. That doesn’t make them bad partners or not fun.”

  “You are taking this way, way too personally, Derek.”

  He bit off whatever he was about to say. There was a water bottle in the side pocket of his backpack. He took a swig and handed it to me. “So, Boring Boy—”

  “Anthony.”

  “Anthony made a move, and you turned him down. Was it early in the trip?”

  “No, it was almost the very last night. I forget you didn’t really meet him until after we all graduated. Waiting until the last second was pretty typical of him all through school. He’d always wait until the end of a trip or the semester or whatever to tell a girl that he liked her, to keep from having to look at whoever was shooting him down.”

  “Logical.”

  I was disgusted. “Not in the least bit logical. If he’d ever said something early enough, maybe someone could get to know him and maybe come to think of him in a different way.”

  “So the guy should take a risk for uncertain future rewards in case someone forces herself to like him?”

  I stopped walking. “Derek, I swear to God, if you have something to say, just say it.”

  “I just don’t think your attitude is fair.”

  “Oh? Really?” I saw the clearing with our waterfall just up ahead, and I marched toward it.

  With his long-legged stride, he caught up to me immediately. “Really.”

  “You are being a chickenshit asshole, and I think you should stop it right now.”

  “How am I being—”

  “You’re totally freaking out about Anthony being a dweeb seventeen years ago because you think I’m lumping you both in the same category. I’m not. You’re not him! What did I say that even sort of sounded like I thought you were like him?”

  “Risk-averse is not the same thing as being a, how did you put it, a chickenshit asshole.”

  “What’s wrong with a little risk? You can’t sweep a girl off her feet if you don’t step forward.”

  In two steps he closed the gap between us. He bent down, and then I was in the air, in his arms. His eyes were a rich, emerald green, the color of the leaves with sunlight behind them. I had known they were green, but I had never noticed how green. Those eyes stared into mine. He was breathing heavily and crushing me to his chest.

  “I’ve stepped forward. Is that good enough for you?” he said.

  There was no sound except for the wind in the trees for a few minutes, until I recovered. “I’m the one who kissed you first,” I said, helplessly.

  He paused. Then he shook his head and laughed. After a moment I saw the humor as well.

  “All right, Vanessa, you win that one.” He set me gently on my feet. “You did kiss me first. In my defense, I’d imagined kissing you for so long that it seems like I should be allowed to remember it the way I want.”

  I sniffed. “No. Only the person who risks getting shot down gets credit.” I gave the word a little emphasis just to see the mock glare on his face.

  “I already said you win.” He threw out his hands in supplication. “I give! What else can I do?”

  The little waterfall and the deep, wide pool inspired me. “You can help me cool off.”

  He saw the direction of my glance. He winced. “I forgot my swimsuit.”

  “Who needs suits?” I leaned over and unlaced my sneakers.

  “I need a suit. Didn’t we watch that movie with River Phoenix? With the leeches?”


  “There aren’t any leeches in there.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Guess I’m going to find out.” I finished taking my clothes off and reached up high in a long stretch. I watched his glance travel over my body. He swallowed hard.

  “Well. If you’re going to go swimming, I should be prepared to save you,” he said.

  “From the leeches?”

  “From whatever.”

  He still made no move to take off his clothes. I stepped onto the rock ledge near the waterfall, enjoying the spray over my breasts and stomach. The water was cold, and my nipples tightened at the shock. I turned to face Derek. “It’s cold. I might get a cramp.”

  There was a half smile on his face, and it looked like his hiking shorts were getting too small for him up front. Finally, he reached down and undid his belt.

  I jumped off the rock and into the pool. After the first shock wore off, it felt amazing. I swam under the waterfall, letting the water drum on my shoulders and back. It wasn’t much more intense than my own shower, but there was a lot more room to play here than there was in my shower.

  My playmate waded in, carefully.

  “Why not jump?”

  “Because without knowing how deep a pool is, or where the rocks are, it’s dangerous to jump in. Just as a side note, this water is freezing, and I’d rather ease into it.”

  I couldn’t help it. I splashed him.

  I fled to the side of the pool and tried to climb out, but he was a much better swimmer than I was. He caught one of my ankles, and he pulled me back into the water. I was too slippery to hang on to for very long, though. I escaped and dove beneath the surface, emerging behind him and splashing him again.

  My long-term strategy needed work. I’d managed to get myself between him and the waterfall with no way to go. “I give!”

  “Oh, no. That’s not nearly enough,” he said. He paddled closer, his movements as graceful as a lion’s.

  The feline undulation of his body transfixed me. I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue. “Tell me what I can do to prove I mean it.”

  “I can’t think of anything…except this!”

  He dove toward me, and he tickled my ribs. I shrieked and kicked. His hands were so strong that I could only pry one of them loose by using both of mine, but that left my other side unprotected.

  “Uncle! Uncle!” I hollered, almost unable to breathe.

  He stopped immediately, his hands still. Both of us were laughing. His hands slid until he was holding me in a gentle embrace. I clung to him, letting him keep us afloat. “Okay, Derek, you win that one.”

  “What’s my prize?”

  I shifted against him, letting my breasts brush against his pectoral muscles. I felt his cock surge against my thigh.

  “That’s a pretty good prize,” he whispered.

  His kiss was better than ever. His tongue was slow and hot without being the least bit tentative. He shifted us closer to the waterfall, where it was just shallow enough for him to stand. I was completely off the ground, weightless in the water. His powerful arm around my waist kept me tethered as he explored my mouth with sureness.

  A delicious spasm went through my clit, and I moaned. “I want you so much,” I said.

  He didn’t reply. I felt his muscles grow tense.

  “Derek, what—”

  He put a finger on my lips. “Not now.”

  “When—”

  “Not now.” He looked around. The ledge I’d jumped from was just to my right and level with the top of his shoulders. His eyes narrowed, looking back and forth from me to the stone.

  “Derek, what are you—”

  “What is with all the questions, woman?”

  My jaw dropped. He winked at me. I saw him crouch down and felt his hands slide to my hips. Without any warning, I was sailing through the air in his firm grip. He turned so that I landed gently and squared to the edge of the rock.

  “Well, hello there,” I said, grinning down at him.

  “Water-assisted levitation.”

  “I’m still impressed. I didn’t think you could do that.”

  “Did that turn you on?”

  “Maybe a little.” Maybe a lot, really. Seeing his muscles was one thing, but feeling him use them on me was entirely different.

  “I’d better check.”

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  He tapped my knees. His expression lost its teasing cast, and his eyes took on a feral look. I shivered at this change in my old friend. But I obeyed, even if I felt suddenly shy. Slowly, I moved my knees apart.

  His hands took hold of my legs and moved them further apart. I had to put my arms back to keep my balance. When he pulled me to the edge of the rock, I realized I would have to keep my arms back there if I didn’t want to fall in. The cool spray from the waterfall spattered onto my breasts, keeping my nipples tight.

  I felt exposed for the first time all day, even though I’d been naked for a while. He stood there, staring at my pussy, for what seemed like hours. Then he lifted his hands and gently traced the curves and valleys of my mound. When he got to my opening, he circled it with one thumb. I shifted my hips, anticipating his entrance. Instead, he slid his thumb between the inner lips and moved up in a long, slow stroke almost to my clit, as if he were opening me.

  He brushed my damp curls away from the tender skin. He separated one inner lip from the outer, then the other, studying the outlines of each one in turn until he revealed my clit. I could feel how swollen I’d become under his ministration, my clit pulsing with the beat of my heart.

  His voice was hoarse. “I’m not sure I knew that women had things that get bigger when they’re excited.”

  “Not nearly as big as you.”

  “No. But still.” With the tip of his finger, he touched the wet entrance to my vagina. “This isn’t from the pool.”

  “No.”

  I hadn’t moved while he was exploring me so thoroughly. I was mesmerized by his attention to detail, and how good it felt to have that attention. But the sensations were having an effect. When his tongue slid out and tasted the moisture trickling from me, I nearly came on the spot.

  “Oh, no, I’m not done, Van.”

  He wasn’t. Derek pointed his tongue and licked each of the crevices between my pussy lips. At the top of each stroke he exhaled onto my clit, but he didn’t touch it. At the bottom he circled my opening. I whimpered and arched toward him. He chuckled and took hold of my upper thighs. His thumbs traced firm patterns on my inner thighs while he ran his tongue up and down in my hot slit.

  I was finding it hard to breathe. He changed the pattern, flattening his tongue and moving it in wide laps. He reached up with one hand and tugged back the skin around my clit, bringing it up and high. At the top of his last lap, he pointed his tongue again and flicked. I jumped. He did it again and again.

  I rocked my hips back and forth, begging for more. All of his focus was on my throbbing clit, and so was mine. His tongue circled and darted until my shudders began. Then he pressed his tongue hard right on top of the nub and held it steady.

  That did it. The orgasm was short, like an explosion, but intense. White noise roared in my ears while my toes flexed. I felt a gush of wetness start deep inside, and I heard Derek moan. As I passed my peak, his tongue started moving again, and he licked the last few quivers out of me.

  Everything was quiet. I opened my eyes to see him smiling up at me. Water droplets glistened on his broad shoulders, and his lips were redder than usual. I grinned back.

  “Your turn, Der?”

  His smile turned embarrassed. “I’m fine, actually.”

  I looked down and realized he still had one hand on my leg, but his other hand was under the surface of the pool. “Oh. Well. Hey, good for you!”

  His eyes widened, and then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. I stopped trying to suppress my own amusement and slid into the water with my arms around his neck to join him. />
  We shared a kiss, warm and unhurried, and waded out of the pool. With the towel Derek kept in his hiking pack, we were dry and ready to go back in no time at all.

  ***

  The rest of the day was spent lounging and reading. I made him dinner just to see his pleased expression when I called him into his dining room.

 

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