Truth In Wildflowers

by Kimberly Rose

  He swiftly ran his hands back down toward my knees. I groaned in frustration and slapped my hands onto his leveling him with me stare. “You’re in, August. You’re in my mind, you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul, and now for the love of God, get in me.”

  He chuckled and smirked at me. He reached for the hem of my dress again and this time pulled it effortlessly over my head. I leaned forward and repeated the same motion his shirt. My mouth panted open at the sight knelt down in front of me. I breathed out and he smiled bashfully running his hand through his hair again. I reached out to run my hands across his stomach, and he obliged but only momentarily.

  He grabbed my hands from where they traced over each ripple and gripped them in his own. He rose off his knees and pushed me back onto the bed. He climbed onto the bed to cover me, still holding my hands in his and pinned my arms above my head. “Don’t move,” he whispered into my lips, “I’m still taking my time.” Son of a bitch.

  He let go of my hands and reached under me to unclasp my lace bra. I arched my back so he could slide it off of me, but the move had my already sensitive nipple brushing against his chest through the lace. I sucked in a sharp needy breath when he whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of those,” as he pulled my bra off and tossed it to the side.

  Just as my back relaxed back into the mattress, August’s velvet tongue licked across one puckered nipple. My back regained its arched pose. He flicked his tongue across the perked mound and my legs shuffled at the sheets with need. The combination of warm and wet, rough and delicate, sucking and kneading had my body begging for him to crawl into me.

  When I thought I couldn’t possibly take a second more, he slipped one rough finger into my folds and so gently traced circles around my entrance. My head fell back in a moan at the same time my legs fell apart. I pushed myself up towards him to force the motion I was desperate for.

  He nuzzled into my neck and kissed along my jawline when he slipped a second finger in. I turned my head toward his, nudging against his jaw with my nose. He brought his face up to mine. “Kiss me,” I demanded breathlessly unable to breathe with the swirling of his fingers.

  His mouth covered mine and mimicked the motion of his fingers. His tongue circled mine as they did. His tongue stilled teasingly when his hand did. His lips sucked and pulled at my own when his thumb massaged me on the outside. Then he hooked his fingers and hit a spot that halted my breath. My hips arched upward and my mouth fell open, but I remained motionless waiting for more, praying for more, and silently begging for more.

  Suddenly I was empty. My body fell back onto the mattress. I inhaled a breath I desperately needed and looked around the room for August. He stood just at the end of the bed quickly stripping off his jeans and gazing at me under hooded eyes. Finally. Thank fucking God.

  When we were exposed and bare together the beat of my heart began to thrum in my ears. My breath mixed into the beat as reeds while my body created its own soundtrack.

  I pushed myself back onto the pillows at the top of his bed in slow graceful slides, August following my lead. His eyes remained fixed on me in a hungry yet patient stare that only fluttered away when he brushed his body onto mine. He dipped his head then, gliding his breath from my stomach up to my neck until our lips connected.

  I placed my palms against his chest and rocked into him when I felt his arousal against my skin. My heart skipped then, and the truth washed over me. I was more connected to August now than I had ever been to one single person. After this moment there was no going back. He would own me inside out, and I would be helpless to control the way my heart moved for him.

  Sensing my shift August brushed his nose against mine and reached down to clasp our hands together. “I got you, pretty girl.” His breath whispered across my skin so softly it buried deep within my being.

  He reached over to his nightstand and cued up a familiar song. “Augustana?” I asked, and then I heard the tearing of the foil packet. “Yeah, but this song’s all for you. Lose your fears to it, Kensie. Lose your fears to me. Let me become your safe zone. I promise I’ll take care of you.” My soul collapsed to him sending my body softening against his as he pushed into me. My heart’s cadence grew as did the volume and rhythm of my breath, and we moved together effortlessly with to tune of the music and our bodies.

  He slid slowly rocking with me in time without heavy breaths. We were completely in tune with one another. Each pump, each glide, felt better than the next. When I moved, he moved. When I raised my leg, he caught it and slid his hand down to where our bodies met. Needing more of him, I pushed my legs out further gliding my toes along the sheets. He buried himself into me in a deliciously slow circular motion. My body obliged moving uninhibitedly in the same motion.

  “You feel amazing,” August uttered in my ear sending a shiver through my spine. If I could think I may have said something back. My mind was silent though, and my heart was shrouded in what I can only describe as peace. I had completely given myself over to this moment with him and found safety to let go. He had become my safe zone.

  Everything began to build simultaneously within me. My heart beating, my breathing turned into panting. The heightened sensation of hard against soft within me became more arousing with each thrust. Everything around me disappeared, and the noise of the world silenced. My mind focused solely on the place where our bodies joined.

  I moaned his name with each dip as he gave me more. My body pulled and grabbed at him more urgently trying to find relief. “More.” I whispered to him, not even sure of what I needed more of.

  He groaned and he pumped into me deep and hard, but deliciously slow. One, and I cried out, my legs spread wide begging. Two, and my hips arched up to meet his thrust pressing him into me firmly. Three, he buried as deep within me as he ever could be.

  My body and soul squeezed and pulled around him in the most addicting and delectable relief. The force in which I had just given myself to him swirled around me, and I was released with each satisfied thrum of my body.

  August continued to rock more gently into me as my heart rate slowed to a softer beat. His arms were wrapped tenderly under me and mine were gripped around his shoulders. I leaned my forehead against his chest and placed a soft kiss on him. He leaned down to catch my lips into his and we kissed slowly and sweetly still joined together, as we would be forever.

  * * *

  The following morning I was sore in the most liberating way possible, that only forty- five minutes in the most amazing shower ever could handle. August woke me early with feather light kisses telling me that he had to go into the youth center to finish up some administrative paperwork, but to make myself at home until he got off at noon. I planned on staying in the exact same sprawled out position I was in on his bed until eleven fifty nine am, but then I heard the shower turn on. I supposed that was my cue to get my ass out of bed.

  August’s heavy footsteps stopped beside the bed when he leaned down to kiss me one last time before leaving. “I heated up the shower for you,” he whispered into the crook on my neck before pulling away and walking towards the door, “and you’re a cover hog.” He added scurrying out of the door like a coward.

  “Am not!” I grumbled and threw a pillow, though he was long gone and it simply slid down the side of the wall. “You snore like a freight train.” I added to myself. Thank goodness he wore me out or I certainly would have been up all night envisioning myself as a damsel in distress strapped to a railroad. Although instead of a cowboy coming to save me on a strapping mare, it would be August in a giant truck. I think he’d still wear leather chaps though, and a cowboy hat; definitely a cowboy hat.

  We’d have to work out some sort of deal where he needs to wear me out properly every night. I smiled to myself remembering just how properly he had last night, and hopped up to go to my shower.

  There was something completely comfortable about being alone at August’s place. I occupied myself with washing his sheets and tidying up the kitchen
a bit more from the previous night. Other than that, I hung out on the couch watching old episodes of Dawson’s Creek. I never felt awkward, or out of place. I felt at home, like it was natural for me to be there doing nothing at all.

  After getting something to eat and making August’s bed I sat on the couch with my laptop. I was set on finding some new music to put some dances to for the girls when they came back after the holidays. Choosing songs they liked was a sure way to keep them motivated in the routines.

  I sampled some of the latest songs on the hip hop top one hundred charts, and realized I had already known most of the songs; I mentally high fived myself for being so cool. A couple of songs into my search my phone lit with an incoming call. I smiled when I saw Lennon’s name knowing exactly why she was calling.

  “Hello.” I answered.

  “How does it feel to be a woman?” She asked enthusiastically above the sound of her little car’s engine revving in the background.

  “Don’t you become a woman when you get your period?” I asked purposely avoiding what she was trying to get at.

  “No, you become a hormonal bitch when you get your period.” She replied and I heard her honk and swear under her breath. “You become a woman when you finally hand over your vagina maintenance to a man.” I cringed at her crude response, but was in no way shocked.

  “My vagina has been maintenance before, thank you very much. In recent years by myself much better than any man, but if you’re asking how my night went then yes, I am feeling very womanly this morning.” I grinned to myself powering off the television.

  “Hallelujah!” She cheered, “I should get August a box of cigars or something.” She mumbled loudly into the phone.

  “Slow down, lady. Cigars are for babies, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t congratulate my boyfriend on finally nailing me.” I rolled my eyes when I heard her tsk at me. I was about to ask her where she was going, but sat up when the lock on the front door began to jiggle. “Hang on a sec a Lennon, I think he just got home.” I pulled the phone down from my ear and began to stand up when she walked in the door.

  “Oh.” She said bitterly. “You’re here.”

  I could barely hear her above the pounding of my heart and I sat back down on the couch suddenly unable to feel my legs. She has a key. “What are you doing here?” I asked though it came out patchy since my mouth had become completely dry.

  “Is it August?” I heard Lennon’s far away voice and brought my phone back up to my ear watching my visitor walk into the kitchen. She knows where the kitchen is.

  “She knows where the kitchen is,” I repeated out loud to Lennon.

  “Who?” She yelled through the phone. “Who’s over there, Kensie?” She asked but she cut off my answer.

  “I thought August would be home.” She grumbled loudly from the kitchen and I heard her open one of the cabinets. For some reason that snapped me out of my shock. I didn’t know why she had a key or what she was doing here, but something about her helping herself in August’s house pissed me off.

  I stood up from the couch and barged into the tiny kitchen, “I’ll ask again.” I said sternly, “What are you doing here?” I could still hear Lennon’s shrieking from the phone that was now held in my hand to my side. I picked it up and told her I’d call her back later.

  “Who is it?” She asked.

  “Trashy Temptress.” I said staring at my visitor whose mouth dropped open at the name and I hung up on Lennon while she screamed a steady stream of explicative.

  The temptress recovered quickly replacing her look of offense with a smug smirk, “Clever.” She told me and I couldn’t help but notice she was more lucid than the last time I had seen her. At least she had that going for her because she looked like she had just rolled out of bed with her long hair tangled down her back and her large dark sunglasses still on. I cleared my throat letting her know I was still waiting for my answer.

  “I left something here,” she said obstinately, “I just came by to pick it up.” She tossed her snarled hair like it had anywhere to go. I tried to ignore her obvious attempt at riling me up.

  “Who are you?” I asked bringing a genuinely shocked look to her face followed by a sinister turn of her lips.

  “Oh, so he hasn’t told you?” she asked.

  “Obviously not.” I told her growing irritated by her games.

  She leaned one boney hip against August’s counter, “I’m Bree.” She said and my heart began its hammering in my head again. I remembered that name.

  “August’s old girlfriend?” I asked trying my best to appear unruffled when I was anything but. Inside my heart and head were finally on a united front of chaos and disorder.

  She cocked her head to the side studying me. “He really didn’t tell you, did he?” She asked sounding a bit put out. What hadn’t August told me? I tried to tell myself that this girl was clearly unstable. The first time I saw her she was a wreck, and even now, though she could form a coherent thought, she was looking rough. I tried so hard to dismiss any crazy notions that were trying to get at me inside my head.

  I trust August. I trust him. I trust him, but why does she have a key? Why does she know her way around his house? I looked at the tall thin girl in front of my with sharp cheek bones that held up her heavy sunglasses, and skinny arms the produced jagged angles where they now sat folded over her chest. She’s Bree.

  “Didn’t tell me what?” I asked her warily disregarding any attempt at ignoring her. Her mere presence had my certainty over my relationship with August decomposing, and my insecurities sprouting again.

  “About our daughter.” The words flowed out of her mouth freely, but each one entered my head independently punctuated by a splintering in my chest. The moments after the words were uttered, slowed into a blur. Bree had already lumbered past me by the time I had processed what she said. Her mouth moved as she went by, but the only thing I heard was the echo of the word daughter.

  August had a daughter. Bree was her mom. August and Bree had a daughter, together. It’s weird how when you are thrown into a situation that rocks you to your core, your brain latches onto the simplest thoughts in order to function. It was like some transcendent survival technique, where my brain knew that if it searched further beyond the most basic of facts, that my heart wouldn’t withstand it.

  I turned to follow Bree down the hall towards the bedrooms. “Your daughter?” I spoke up not knowing where she had gone, but then heard her voice come from the yellow room.

  “Yeah,” was all she said? I walked slowly toward the room afraid of what I would find, even though my mind was beginning to put together the pieces. I stood in the doorway and watched as Bree rifled through the white closet that stood out against the colored walls. She pulled out a pink tutu and turned hastily on her heels exiting the room quickly and swiftly, bumping against me in her scurry.

  I stared unblinking at the open closet with a handful of little dresses hanging so obviously on the rack. The sound of keys startled me and I turned walking mindlessly back toward the living room.

  “Yeah, daughter.” Bree spat out at me more wounded now. “I don’t know what’s worse for you. The fact that your relationship is obviously not as solid as you assumed, or that you are with a man who doesn’t acknowledge his own daughter.” With that she left the house slamming the door behind her and I collapsed to my knees in the living room.

  Chapter 23

  August

  There wasn’t much to do at work with the kids all being gone for the holiday, so the staff had the time off as well, except for me. John had me scheduled this morning to go through some of the work orders we had made throughout the past year to make sure the inventory lined up. It wasn’t a typical task for a general center leader, but he had been training me more often in tasks that I would take on when he retired and I took over as director.

  As I finished up the last supply form review my phone vibrated from in my back pocket. I checked the caller and answered. “Hey, C
apri.”

  “What the hell did you do, August?” She sounded flustered.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked folding the papers back into the manila folder. I was used to Capri blaming me for things. Very used to it. She once blamed me for the high and tight haircut she gave her Barbie dolls, claiming I wouldn’t let her play with me if they didn’t look like my army men.

  “She won’t answer any of our calls, August.” She sounded increasingly more panicked.

  “Who won’t? Calm down, and tell me what’s going on.” I held the phone between my head and me shoulder locking up the file cabinet.

  “Kensie, August!” She shouted at me and an unsettling feeling began to churned stomach. “Lennon was on the phone with her and someone showed up at your house. She said it sounded like a girl.”

  My heart rate jumped a beat, but I ignored the discomfort. “It was probably one of the girls from the youth center, Capri. We keep in touch with them while they are on break. She probably had one of them come over to check in.” Yeah that had to be it. Gabby must have stopped by for a visit. Kensie was always so attentive to them and making sure they stayed on a solid path.

  “Oh, ya know what?” I quickly added, “It could be her mom too. She stopped by once unannounced to take Kensie to lunch. Yeah, it might have been her mom.”

  Capri sighed from the other end of the line, “Don’t be an idiot, August. You know exactly who it was. I thought you took Bree’s key away?” Her panic had subsided some.

  “I did,” I told her. “ Just after I met Kensie, but she still knows where the spare key is hidden.” I ran my free hand through my hair while I locked up John’s office. “It couldn’t have been Bree though, Capri.” I reassured both her and myself.

  “How can you be so sure?” She asked me, and I wasn’t. I wasn’t completely sure if wasn’t Bree, but for Kensie’s sake I hoped it wasn’t.