by Stahl, Shey
I nodded, not crying, holding his eyes with mine as he settled between my legs and covers my body with his just like I needed and didn’t even know. He warmed me. He melted me. Through icy blue, dark storms, he calmed me just by being so near in the eye of our storm.
“I love you, brown eyes,” he told me whispering words that felt like raindrops and wet trees. “Do you know that?”
I nodded, because even though it felt impossible, that after a week together, he would feel an emotion no one truly knows the meaning to, I do know. I know it better than I know anything else. I know it because it’s what my bones are made of. It’s what we are made of. The occasional brush in the halls at school, the hidden smiles, the stolen glances, we had always loved each other from opposite sides of our own storms. Only now, the two fronts had collided, one force.
“I know,” I promised, holding onto him so tight. Logic and apprehension didn’t register then, didn’t want to registered. All it wanted was to see this, the calm, the wet trees and raindrops that had the power to awaken a soul and fight for what we wanted. It wants what is simple and true.
We stared at each other in silence for long moments, lost in a moment neither one of us try to surface from. We’re okay drowning; we’re okay, lost at sea.
“I’m not Eric, Bailey.” His words were spoken softly, holding my eyes with his. “I’m here for you and you only.”
I jumped slightly when his hands touched my exposed knees, pulling them apart until his torso is nestled between them. The heat from his skin radiated through his body and into me, a slow fire burned. The words from his lips left me burning and bare.
“I would never betray you like that.” His hands emphasized his statement as they slowly trailed up my thighs, pushing the soft material of his flannel.
I gasped as he reached behind my knees and pulled me closer, until my innocence as he put it, is right there for him. His hands moved back to my thighs and pushed my underwear until it bunched around my hips, leaving me exposed to him.
His thumbs trailed confident circles on my hipbones, right above the waistband of my panties.
“I only want you,” he stated forcefully, pleading with his eyes for me to believe him.
And then, his mouth was on me, a place no one had ever been.
His eyes closed, he moaned, I moaned, and then we both sort of checked out. His tongue, wet and warm, was soft, caring, and showing me that he only wanted me in a way that no one ever had before.
I couldn’t concentrate on anything, not with Dylan Wade’s head between my legs and his mouth on my vagina. No, hell no. Concentration was not there. I will tell you what was there, heavy breathing, gasping, wiggling, squirming, a little embarrassment, growling, more panting, hair pulling, laughing, a few giggles, and finally, bliss. Pure fucking bliss.
Dylan grabbed my hips tighter, his hands working with his tongue to send me over the edge, but what did it was his moan he let out at my reaction, writhing in his hands, screaming his name loud enough for the entire hotel to hear and then going limp in his arms.
It took just a second; he scrambled up my body, hovered over me, and then reached below to grasp himself. Just as I had done the other night, and last night, his hand brought him to the edge I was just on, before he spilled onto my stomach, his face buried in my neck.
Most of what I focused on was that he said he loved me. And I said nothing. Did I love him? A good part of me always had since that first kiss on the train tracks. I was scared to love someone as intense as Dylan, especially when I didn’t even know myself. I couldn’t even tell him why I got in his car let alone that I loved him.
10. Wide Awake – Bailey Gray
I noticed this with my friends in school, most the hookers on the cheerleading squad who spread their legs for anything on the football team that hurled insults their way, that once you start getting sexually active with someone, it’s usually all you want to do. What is it about hormones that can’t be denied? Why once they’re activated is it all you think about?
This doesn’t just go for guys either, girls are just bad. When Mercedes and Kasey starting having sex, they’d skip class just to do it in the parking lot. Same deal with Jessica and Brian. Another friend, Halie, her and her boyfriend Clayton used to do it under the bleachers during our pep rallies. No lie, it was like crack. Once they got a taste of it that’s all they did.
I completely understood that feeling now. It wasn’t like we were having sex, yet the anticipation of it and what we might try next, was exciting.
“That shit stinks, what is it?” Dylan asked looking over at me with my feet on the dash and the wind blowing through the car, both windows down.
“Nail polish.” I said raising the bottle slightly but trying to keep my hand steady. “I’m painting my toes black because my mom hates that color.” When I finished my right foot, I looked over at him with a sucker in his mouth. It was very distracting. “What me to do yours too?”
“No.” He pulled the cherry sucker between his lips and then out smacking his lips together. “I’m not much of a painted nails kind of guy.” Putting the sucker back in his mouth, he moved it to his cheek and talked with it still in his mouth. I watched carefully. “Are you going to start wearing black lipstick too and piercing those circle things in your ears?”
“Circle things? You mean earrings?”
That remark earned me a glare. “No, I mean those earrings with the big holes in them, like Haven wore.”
“Oh, those.” I felt somewhat stupid for not knowing what he was talking about. “No.”
Dylan gave a nod, his eyes back on the road.
“So you never slept with Haven.” I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth at my own question but I really wanted to know who he’d slept with. For some reason I must have thought that was a good icebreaker. Stupid.
He blinked, slowly, and then looked over at me, his head lulled, eyes arched. “No, I didn’t have sex with Haven.”
“Who?”
“You seriously want to know?”
Of course I did. I was the typical eighteen-year-old girl right then and wanted to know everyone he’d been with so I could compare myself to them.
The problem was that Dylan knew that.
“Fine, you want to know I’ll tell you,” he said shifting his weight to lean closer to me, his arm thrown over the back of the seat as we headed to Dodge City. “Sarah, Lindsey, Jessie, and the other two…I don’t know…just girls.” His expression changed slightly, a practiced triviality settled.
“So five?”
“Yeah.”
“And none were virgins?”
“No,” he laughed lightly, “definitely not virgins,”
Putting my nail polish away, I scooted closer tangling my hand in his hair, lightly scraping against his scalp and I felt his right hand find my left thigh, snaking its way underneath the edge of my shorts to caress the skin. It was one of his signature moves that I was becoming accustomed to when we were in the car. He liked touching skin, my skin. I loved it when he held me this way. The way he gripped me felt so possessive and protective and something I never knew I wanted, or needed, until I got in his GTO.
Here’s where those hormones came in. I wanted more of that tingling all over feeling that he was so good at giving me.
“Have you ever went down on any of them?” I was getting bolder by the moment and loved it.
Dylan laughed lightly shaking us both. His head tipped to kiss the side of my face. “Yes,”
“Is there anything you haven’t done?”
Dylan was quiet again, his breathing slightly heavier than before. “I’ve never finished here before.” His right hand that had moved to my thigh, raised to touch my lips lightly, his voice grating and strong as his rushed though me. His fingers lingered there for a moment, calloused roughness scraping against soft.
I tugged at the collar of his flannel shirt so that I could kiss the divot between his collarbones as the idea of Dylan in my mouth overwhel
med me. I’d never done anything like that before but I was sure that I wouldn’t have a problem with it.
Dylan moaned quietly and his head dropped to the back of the seat again. “You really know how to get me going, don’t you?”
I grinned and scooted closer, breathing heavy. There was some sound of vague disappoint, but he was too far gone to make any proper complaint.
My guess was that all of Dylan’s we-can’t-have-sex proclamations were wavering slightly.
My fingers trailed down his shirt and gripped at his belt. “How about you do finish?”
Dylan’s head shot up, eyes wide as he took in my new position, kneeling, hands pulling at his belt in the front seat of his GTO.
“Bailey.” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as I slowly undid his zipper. “I didn’t say that so you would do―”
“Dylan,” I cut him off sharply. “If you tell me I don’t have to do what I’m very obviously about to do, I will actually stop.”
“Okay, then,” he smirked. “Just ignore me.”
So I did and finished unzipping his shorts. It wasn’t that easy, I heard a few honks along the way since my ass was in the air and it was obvious what I was doing. I don’t think Dylan cared about any of that.
Soon his hands were fisting in my hair and I was internally praising myself for the sounds he was making. He was obviously trying to restrain himself. Though I had never done this before, YouTube was very informational, and Dylan’s car was filled with quiet moans and the chanting of my name. His hips began lifting from the seat to meet my mouth and I couldn’t hold back my own moan. I could smell that natural oak heady smell he had, the soft sensitive skin, it was just as enjoyable for me as it was for him. Well, maybe not that much but I did enjoy it. I only wished I could have seen his face.
Having never done it before, I was trying to concentrate on technique and not making a fool of myself and he seemed to enjoy it too. It was similar to sucking on a sucker, if I had to compare it.
He made a lot of noises, soft grunts, and groans, with on hand tangled in my hair guiding me or encouraging. It felt like support and I needed it.
It wasn’t long and Dylan’s hips shuddered and I glanced up out of the corner of my eye to see him biting his fist to keep from crying out but a little grunt escaped him when I felt his legs tense and a warm liquid seeping into my mouth and hardened in my mouth.
I resisted the urge to gag, not that I found it repulsive or anything but it was different from what I thought it would be.
“Jesus, I was doing one ten…” I felt his leg rise to ease off the gas trying to adjust himself. “Thank god there weren’t any cops around here.”
I sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as delicately as I could. With his shorts still unbuttoned, Dylan’s head fell forward into the steering wheel, eyes closed for a moment, and his arms hung limply over the wheel, drifting from the right lane to the left and back again on purpose.
As he used his knee to balance the steering wheel, he got himself situated.
Looking at his flushed cheeks, I was quite proud of myself that there wasn’t a hint of tension anywhere in his body. I snickered a bit at the sated expression on his face and Dylan opened one eye to look at me.
“Something funny, there, brown eyes?”
I shook my head, smirking. “Nope.”
He reached for my hand and pulled me back up next to him, settling into a comfortable speed that wouldn’t get us pulled over; dropping his head to my shoulder once I was there. “Mmm,” he sighed. “Thank you.”
I was about to say something in reply when a log truck that had been keeping pace with us honked. We both glanced to the right to see the guy hanging his arm out his window. Since my window was down, we heard exactly what he was saying. “Fuck yeah honey! Suck mine next!”
Dylan was not amused by that. He leaned over the top of me, one hand on the wheel and the other giving a gesture to the trucker. “Suck this asshole!”
The driver of the truck wasn’t exactly thrilled with Dylan and shouted back, “Pull over and I will motherfucker!”
Dylan and I both looked at each other and his speed slowed. “As much as I want to kick this guy’s ass, I don’t have the energy and he looks like he could kick mine without trying.”
I gave him a nod wrinkling my nose with a giggle. “Probably a good idea.”
Thankfully, the truck driver wasn’t looking for a fight, leaving us alone.
The drive from Wichita to Dodge City offered nothing but flat land, occasionally a dead animal or two and the occasional trucker honking. It might have had something to do with my legs hanging out the window but I liked the breeze it offered. I’d lay with my butt against the door, my back flat against the seat, my head in Dylan’s lap and my legs out the window.
Turning up the music, the sounds of Groove Armada hummed through the car. The wind, the cow shit smell, and the music was relaxing but Dylan’s soft touches were the calming part. He’d start by running his fingertips over my collarbone, then the side of my neck, behind my ear, and then he would run his fingers through my hair. All the while, I stared out the side window watching cars and clouds pass through my toes.
At some point during the song, Dylan’s hand rested on my chest over my heart, his fingers tapping to the beat as he sang along. My favorite part was when he would hum and his voice would adapt that gritty rasp he had that reminded me of that moan he did on stage.
Taking his hand from my chest, I rested it in both of mine exploring every detail behind the talent these hands held. Long fingers, muscular palms with calloused edges, he held a lot in these hands, including my heart now.
I wondered what he would do with it, as no one else had ever held it before.
“Wanna take a detour?” Dylan whispered bringing my hand that was still tucked in his to his lips kissing my knuckles.
“Sure.” I looked up at him and he smiled down at me and winked.
Clouds had rolled in, the Kansas sky peppered with blue and gray undertones as a light mist of rain fell highlighting the overgrown weeds that lined a country road.
The rain picked up but we kept the windows down as the breeze and smell of fresh rain was exactly what we wanted on that red dirt road. When we got to the lake, the sun could just barely be seen through the clouds. Dylan used his flannel to shield the camera so I could get a few good shots in. Sighing, I peeked at them; Dylan glanced over my shoulder, his chin rested against me.
His lips at my ear, he kissed me once before reaching inside the car to turn up the stereo when a song came on that he liked.
A moment later, with the rain still falling, we were laying on the hood of his car. “Drew and I used to lay in the grass and see how long we could keep our eyes open.”
“Who would win?”
“We never found out,” he laughed lightly. “We always gave in and enjoyed the feeling of the rain on our face when we closed our eyes. We could imagine we were anywhere but where we were, for a moment.”
Right now, we could be anywhere but here, but why would I want that. “I like where I’m at.”
Dylan inhaled a deep breath. “Me too…”
A cool breeze past, a mist of rain coated my face and I smiled. I completely understood why he would have done this as a child. I used to sit at my window when it would rain and photograph the water as it surged down the drain.
Dylan didn’t care that we were laying on the hood of his car or that it was raining. He was in the moment, something he was teaching me to do and enjoying the greater importance than some meaningless materialism, something my childhood had lacked greatly. Maybe there’s something to that way of thinking. I smiled at the thought. The thought that creeps in me knowing Dylan is having an effect on me more than just sexually.
Dylan rolled to his side, looking down at me. “You cold?”
“Nope.”
He nodded, thoughtful for a moment, drops of water beaded under his chin. In the dista
nce, but closer than I would have liked, thunder cracked lighting the sky behind us. Dylan looked around and then winked. “You scared?”
“A little.” I admitted. “We are in tornado country.”
“Good.” He licked his lips and shook water from his eyes. His hand rose to wipe drops that formed on my nose. “It means you’re doing something wrong the right way.”
“Your logic is sometimes scary.”
He gave me a playful nod. “My logic is what got you here, with me, in the rain, on the hood of my car.” Slowly he leaned forward, hovering over me, and went in as if he was going to kiss me but stopped just as his lips were at mine, barely touching, his breath blew across my face as he spoke. “Dance with me…in the rain.”
“Here?”
“Yes.” He pulled back, his eyes sparkling as the rain sprinkled drops on his lashes as he gave a lazy nod. “Here”
Sitting up on my elbows, I slid my feet up the hood so my knees were bent, my heels touching my butt.
Dylan stood on the hood, the metal protested with a thump at his weight. He reached his hand out lifting me up. “Dance with me.”
“Are you sure? It’ll dent the hood.”
“Who gives a shit?” he gestured to the left side of the car. “It’s smashed already.”
“I don’t want to make it worse.”
“Shut up,” he said placing my hands around his neck and his on my hips. “We won’t. We’re making memories here, enjoy the moment, be here.” He placed his hand over my heart again, his eyes focused surely on mine and blinked slowly. “Be with me right here, in the rain.” I did, I was in the moment and wrapped myself around him, my bare feet squeaking against the metal. “Every time I look at this hood, I’ll think of this moment and you. And I’ll know that we’re the only two people who will know what these dents mean because we were in a moment.”
You know those moments, whether you’re in them or not, you feel something more than what you intended to feel, what you wanted to feel. That was right now. It was like watching a sunset, one that I expected to be an average sunset and knowing what the colors would be and the specific settings I would use, but then, with so much as a shift in the clouds, a sunset you never expected is revealed. It’s a stolen heart in the rain, sprinkled rays of light that kiss your skin and dance in the rain to the sounds of thunder and rolling growls.
