“Fuck,” he groaned loud and long when she wrapped her sweet mouth around him, her tongue working him as she sucked. “Oh, God, baby, that’s good. Oh, yes. Fuck.”
With his hand on the back of her head, the more she moved, the more she sucked, the more difficult it was for him not to urge her forward, getting her to take more of him into her mouth.
She was perfection, the way she licked and slurped and moaned as though this was as much for her as it was for him.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he growled. He couldn’t take much more, and he wasn’t quite ready to be done yet.
Reluctantly, he pulled out of her mouth, then reached for her, helping her to her feet before crushing his lips to hers. He kissed her long and hard, pushing her up against the tiled wall. He was at his breaking point. This woman, so damn sweet and eager, made him burn so fucking hot sometimes he didn’t think he’d survive it.
Pulling back, he smiled at her as he brushed her wet hair out of her face.
“Your turn,” he said urgently, making sure she saw his wicked grin.
The water grew cold, and Curtis turned off the shower, dried them both, and returned to the bedroom before Lorrie even processed what had happened in the shower. It had been … surprisingly enjoyable? Dirty hot?
Both?
Whatever it was, she had been completely surprised, but more so turned on by what Curtis had had her do. Again, she wasn’t necessarily a prude, but she didn’t have any experience, either. Nothing other than what Curtis had taught her thus far and that … putting his erection in her mouth…
She wasn’t sure what to think about it other than she had enjoyed it. The way he’d moaned when she’d moved her tongue or applied a little more suction… That was the hot part. She’d been startlingly aroused by his reaction to what she was doing to him. It again gave her that sense of empowerment.
“Sit,” Curtis said, pulling her from her pornographic thoughts.
Lorrie sat.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he kneeled on the floor before her, shouldering his way between her thighs.
“It’s my turn to taste.”
Curtis put a hand on her chest and urged her back. Catching herself on her elbows, Lorrie remained propped up, still completely naked as she watched him. Though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with being naked because of her own body image issues, she couldn’t deny that Curtis always made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.
Her breath lodged in her throat the same way it always did when he touched her. So when he used his thumbs to open her lower lips, she felt a blush wash over her. She was partly embarrassed, partly turned on. Apparently more of the latter, because she didn’t move to stop him.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t done this before, using his tongue down there to pleasure her, but usually these things only happened when the bedroom was dark. The sun was still up, the room bright, so she could see every single thing he did.
“Curtis,” she cried out when he lashed her with his tongue, sliding through her slit. She automatically bucked her hips, but he gripped her thighs and held her down, his mouth doing wondrous things to her.
Before long, her body was humming, and she was squirming relentlessly, trying to get to that pivotal point where she would be catapulted into bliss. He released one leg, his hand falling from sight, and then she felt his fingers work their way inside her. It only took a few thrusts with those skilled fingers and a few more licks by that devilish tongue before she was rocketing skyward, her body and her mind separating as pleasure assaulted her.
It was too much; she didn’t know how people endured that much pleasure.
She must have recovered, because when the room came back into focus, Curtis was hovering over her on the bed, his grin wide.
“Have I mentioned how much I love watching you come apart?”
She shook her head but smiled back at him.
His smirk was replaced with something that resembled desperation as he eased between her thighs, his erection pressing against her sensitive flesh. Needing more of him and not willing to see if he intended to torment her any longer, Lorrie took matters into her own hands. Reaching between them, she guided him to her, then pulled his hips, forcing him inside.
“Lorrie,” he breathed roughly, his head falling down to her shoulder as he held himself above her on his forearms. “Oh, God, baby. I love being inside you. So tight. So wet. So … perfect.”
He began working his hips, sliding inside, the friction sending electrical pulses through her body. She loved the way he looked above her, his muscles flexing as he slowly penetrated her over and over.
“Such a sweet pussy,” he mumbled. “I wanna spend the rest of my life right here.”
She loved his dirty mouth, loved how he seemed to ramble incoherently. She hung on every word, every stroke, every exquisite sensation.
Curtis’s hips slammed forward, and then he shifted, gripping her hips and changing their position so that her bottom was lifted and he was impaling her roughly. He seemed transfixed by the spot where their bodies were joined, and she continued to watch him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her, driving her higher, these sensations new, different. Better.
It was as though he was losing control, taking her, owning her.
“Curtis! Yes… Curtis!” Another more powerful orgasm slammed through her, once again leaving her mind numb and her body sated. She clutched the sheets in her fist, never looking away from him, her body continuing to hum as he worked his way to completion, his hips driving forward, then back, over and over, before roaring as he filled her.
And while she worked on getting her breathing back to normal, she couldn’t help but wonder when they would be doing that again.
chapter TWENTY-FOUR
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1968
My heart is broken once again, and this time I’m not sure it will ever mend completely. Mitch stopped by the house today to relay the devastating news that last night, Kathy and Celeste were in a car accident. A bad one.
Kathy was drinking and driving (stupid, stupid, stupid), and apparently she’d gone to a party. Mitch said that Celeste called Kathy before the party and asked if she could pick her up from a friend’s house. I don’t know why Celeste didn’t call us or even Mitch or Janice. Oh, my God. If she had called one of us, this wouldn’t have happened.
Mitch said that Kathy picked Celeste up, and just a few blocks from Momma’s house, Kathy crashed the car into a tree. (The pain in my chest is unbearable as I think about it.) They say Kathy died on impact, probably never felt any pain. For the record, that doesn’t make it any better, any easier to process. Celeste is in the hospital, and they don’t think she’s going to make it. Kathy is only nineteen—was. Oh, God. How could this happen to her? How could God take her so soon?
Please God, please let Celeste wake up. I don’t think this family will survive it if she dies, too.
“Curtis!”
A loud knock on the front door followed the bellowing of his name. Pushing up from his spot on the couch, Curtis went to the door to find Lorrie’s brother Mitch standing on the porch, his hat in his hand, his face drawn up.
He looked like hell. As though he hadn’t slept in a month.
“What’s the matter?” Curtis asked, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him. Something told him this wasn’t good, and he didn’t want Lorrie hearing only part of whatever Mitch was about to say.
“Is Lorrie here?” Mitch looked past him as though he could see through the front door and into the house.
Curtis grabbed his smokes from his pocket and lit one up while he stood there, offering one to Mitch, who shook his head. “She is. Do you want me to get her?”
“Not yet.” Mitch was gripping his hat so tightly Curtis knew something was horribly wrong. “I wanna tell you first.”
Good idea. Based on the pain etched around the man’s eyes and mouth, whatever Mi
tch was going to say wouldn’t be good.
“Tell me what?”
Mitch met Curtis’s gaze, and it was then that he could tell his brother-in-law had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks puffy.
Definitely not good.
“Kathy and Celeste…” Mitch took a deep breath. “They were in a car accident last night.”
“Shit. They okay?”
Mitch’s face fell, and that answered Curtis’s question before his brother-in-law explained.
“Kathy was at the wheel. She’d been drinking, at least according to what the doctors said. She picked Celeste up from a friend’s house. They didn’t make it home. She crashed the car into a tree, not far from Momma’s house.” Mitch pointed, as though that would help Curtis understand where he was referring to. “Kathy died on impact. Celeste is in the hospital. They don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
“You’ve gotta tell Lorrie,” Curtis told him while already trying to figure out a way to shield Lorrie from the pain.
Her sister was dead.
Shit.
“I know,” Mitch said, his voice rough. “I don’t know how to tell her. It’s gonna kill her.”
Lorrie was a strong woman, but Curtis couldn’t imagine how he’d handle finding out one of his brothers or sisters had died. He’d nearly lost his shit when they’d gotten word that Gerald had been shot, and that hadn’t been life threatening. This… Damn. This had been fatal.
Regardless, they had to tell her, and he had to take her to the hospital so she could be with Celeste.
Curtis took a couple of drags on his cigarette, then tossed it out into the dirt. Before he turned to step inside, the door opened, and Lorrie stuck her head out, grinning. “Hey, Mitch. What are—” She didn’t finish her sentence, and Curtis suspected that was because she saw the pain imprinted boldly on her brother’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go inside,” Curtis told her, not waiting for Mitch to respond. He wanted Lorrie sitting down for this news. “Mitch’ll tell you. But we need to sit down.”
Once inside, Curtis guided Lorrie to the couch. He could tell she wanted to fight him, that she didn’t want to sit down or wait for someone to explain things to her, but he managed to coerce her with a gentle arm around her shoulder.
“It’s Kathy,” Mitch said once Lorrie was off her feet, tears filling his eyes as he spoke. He didn’t take a seat, simply stood a few feet away, wringing his hat in his hands. “She died last night, Lorrie.”
Lorrie flinched as though the words weighed a ton, hitting her directly in the chest. Curtis pulled her to his side as she stared wide-eyed back at her brother. “No. That… No, that can’t be true.”
“She and Celeste were in a car accident. The car hit a tree. Killed Kathy on impact.” Mitch sobbed and Curtis’s heart broke for the man. And for Lorrie.
“No,” Lorrie said, the word so matter-of-fact it was as though she could change the outcome by saying it.
Mitch nodded.
“No,” Lorrie repeated. She was shaking her head in disbelief while tears filled her eyes. “It can’t be true. No.”
Lorrie tried to get up, but Curtis held her, pulling her to him.
“Celeste was with her,” Mitch continued.
Curtis tried to hold on as Lorrie bolted upright, tears now streaming down her face.
Mitch cleared his throat. “She’s in a coma. They don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
“No!” Lorrie was more adamant that time. “That can’t be true! It can’t be true!” She turned to him. “Curtis, tell me he’s lying. Tell me that my sister didn’t die. Please. Please don’t let it be true.”
He could practically feel the fissure that broke through his heart. Seeing the devastation on Lorrie’s face was enough to shatter him. Wrapping his arms around her, Curtis pulled his wife into his chest, cradling her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. He physically felt her pain, wished he could absorb it for her.
While he held her, Curtis looked at Mitch. “I’ll bring her to the hospital.”
Mitch nodded. “I’ve gotta go tell Janice. I came here first.”
Curtis didn’t envy the man. It was hard enough that he’d lost his sister, but to have to relive it over and over again, explaining it to everyone in his family… That had to be hell.
Without a word, Mitch left, silently closing the door behind him.
Lorrie couldn’t wrap her mind around what Mitch had told her. She couldn’t believe that Kathy could possibly be…
No. It couldn’t be true. God wasn’t that cruel.
The words continued to pound inside her head like a hammer. Her entire body was shaking, the emotion so overwhelming she didn’t know how to process it.
Kathy had been her best friend. They’d been so close growing up. It hadn’t always been perfect, but she had been Lorrie’s closest confidante, especially during the years Curtis had been away.
A sob ripped through her, and Curtis’s strong arms tightened around her. She was thankful that he didn’t try to hush her with empty words. Nothing he said could make this easy for her. Her sister had died.
“Let me get my boots on and we’ll go up to the hospital,” Curtis whispered in her ear.
Yes. Hospital. Celeste.
That was exactly where she needed to be.
Nodding against his chest, she tried to pull herself together.
“I need to let Momma know,” Curtis said. “She’s gonna want to be with you.”
Lorrie wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, especially if her mother would be at the hospital, but she knew Curtis was right. Mrs. Walker would want to know. During the time Curtis had been away, Kathy and Celeste had come over a lot, even had dinner with the Walkers from time to time. And since Granite Creek was such a small town, there was no doubt word would get out, if it hadn’t already.
Sitting up, Lorrie brushed her hair out of her face, then went to the bathroom to clean herself up. She stared at her reflection, and that simple action had the tears falling once again. She wanted someone to wake her up from this nightmare. She didn’t want to accept the fact that her sister could possibly be dead.
And what about Celeste? According to Mitch, the doctors didn’t think she was going to make it. How would…? God. She wasn’t sure they’d make it through this. How could you grieve for one of your sisters, much less two, and still be able to function?
She managed to take a deep breath, turned on the faucet, and splashed cool water on her face while her brain tried to process the news. The more water she doused herself in, the harder the tears fell.
“Oh, God, no,” she cried out. Her legs buckled, and she reached for the sink at the same time Curtis’s strong arms grabbed her, lifting her up, then carrying her to the bedroom. He set her on the edge of the mattress, then climbed on the bed behind her, pulling her down with him.
“We need to go to the hospital,” she said hoarsely.
“We will,” he mumbled gently. “In a few minutes. Let me have this, Lorrie. I need to hold you.”
She knew he was doing this for her, only claiming it was for himself. She loved him all the more for it. Giving in, she let the tears fall, her face buried in his chest, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt as the horrible news took root and her soul shattered.
chapter TWENTY-FIVE
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1968
If I never have to go through a day like today, it’ll be too soon.
We laid my sisters to rest today. Both of them.
Going to the cemetery and watching as they lowered not one but two of my beautiful sisters into the ground was the most devastating thing I have ever witnessed. Most of the town showed up to pay their respects, doing their best to console Momma. She is taking it hard, but that’s completely understandable. My heart is shattered and they were my sisters. I can’t imagine what Momma is going through. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. I tried twice. The first time, I cha
lked it up to her being upset. The second time… Well, it wasn’t what I expected.
Curtis would be more than willing to never again have to go through what he’d gone through today. More so because seeing his wife so devastated was the equivalent of stealing his heart right out of his chest.
The past week had been brutal. Between the news of Kathy’s death, then Celeste’s steady decline, followed by her death, it had been a whirlwind of emotions. And because the Jamesons were going through so much, Curtis had taken it upon himself to handle the funeral arrangements, working directly with Mitch. Lorrie’s brother hadn’t deserved to take it all on himself, and Lorrie’s mother had proved to be in no shape to deal with the details.
Although horrifically sad, it had been a nice service, and he expected the graveside service to be the same. Curtis remained with Lorrie, sitting on the first row with her brothers and sisters and mother. Dorothy had taken the seat at the opposite end, as far away from his as possible. Whether that had been intentional or not, he wasn’t sure, nor did he really care to know.
He kept his arm around Lorrie the entire time, even as they lowered the caskets, holding her tight to him, her body trembling uncontrollably. She was doing fairly well composing herself, but he knew how hard it was for her. For all of them.
“I wanna go say something to Momma,” Lorrie told him once the service had concluded.
Curtis nodded, taking her hand and leading her toward Dorothy.
“Momma.” Lorrie’s voice was hoarse from all the tears she’d shed, so the word didn’t carry far enough.
“Mrs. Jameson,” Curtis called, getting Lorrie’s mother’s attention.
Dorothy turned around, and when her eyes landed on him, the sadness disappeared, and something that looked a hell of a lot like rage filled them.
“What do you want?” she seethed.
Curtis’s eyebrows darted down in confusion, not sure what he’d done to provoke this sort of response. He’d spent the entire week putting things together, not wanting any of them to have to deal with this while they were grieving, so her reaction seemed entirely out of character.
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