She meets me with a huge grin as I hand her the helmet. She snaps it on and climbs on behind me. Her body flush against me causes my body to ignite.
I pat her outer thigh and back up to get us out on the road.
I don’t have a destination in mind so I drive out of the city to the country roads. The aroma of manure and dry earth is strong here. It’s just the road, the howl of my bike, Carmyn, and me. And acres and acres of green and yellow farms, obstructed only by the occasional oil pump, spread out as wide and far as the eye can see.
It’s my own little piece of Texas heaven. Every penny I paid to alter my bike for Carmyn was worth it. I would’ve gladly paid double or triple for this right here.
We ride for a long time until I see a huge oak shading a large patch of open land. I steer the bike over and settle us under the tree’s cool canopy. As Carmyn hands me the helmet, I say, “Hang on a sec.” I place my hand on her leg to keep her on the bike. I turn around to face her and climb back on.
She smiles and lifts her legs so I can slide mine under hers. “Now what?” she asks and spreads her palms over my thighs.
I cup my hands on the sides of her hips and slide her closer to me. “This.” I lean into her and mold my lips to hers. Her black currant perfume mixes with the dry heat and something sweet lingering in her hair from her shampoo. I run my fingers through her long, inky locks as I massage her tongue with mine.
She runs her fingers up the sides of my jaw and into my hair, clasping her hands together at the back of my head, forbidding my escape.
Like I’d go anywhere anyway. My lips twitch under her caress. I pull back slightly to rub my lip against hers before pulling away. Doing it again, teasing her.
She smiles and tugs my head to her, locking our lips together.
We’re lost in each other, searching with our tongues, pursuing with our hands, when out of nowhere sheets of rain spatter through the treetop.
Carmyn screeches and pulls away.
I glance around and smile. Only in Texas.
Carmyn hops off the bike, covering her head with her small hands, and runs to the sparse shelter of the tree’s trunk.
I follow her, but it’s no use; we’re soaked. She laughs and drops her hands. “What now?”
Well, we can’t ride in this downpour. “Come here.” I tug her hand and sit down with my back against the trunk, guiding her so she’s sitting on top of me. We make out under the tree, against its trunk, in the rain. She rolls her hips over me, and her clothed opening runs along my hard length. Our breathing quickens, and our enthusiasm increases in tempo.
Just as quick as it started, the rain stops. All that’s left is the drip, drip, drip of left over water drops falling from the leaves above.
I lift Carmyn’s wet shirt off and set it to the side to dry, returning to lap up a trail of water from her neck. God, she’s so beautiful. And amazing. I can’t hold all of this in anymore. I cradle her face in my hands and search her eyes. “I have never felt this way with anyone. I don’t want it to stop. I want you to be mine.”
She sits back. Her face doesn’t mirror the way I’m feeling. “Dallas, please don’t.”
“Why do you always have be this way? Why won’t you ever let me tell you how I feel?” She has to feel at least some of what I do. I’ve read it in the way she kisses me, touches me, looks at me.
“Because it changes things. Then what we’re doing will mean something.”
I frown at her, anger rising in my gut. “Then it will mean something? How can you say that? Like everything we’ve been doing up until now means nothing to you?”
“Dallas. Don’t be like that. I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, it sure as hell sounded like you meant that. There really is no other way to take it.”
She grabs her shirt and stands up. “It’s just … I plan … things.” She wrings her shirt out and puts it on, pulling her hair out and splaying it behind her neck. “My life, everything. What we’re doing, what you want from me, I didn’t plan it.”
Is this because I was arrested?
I stand so we’re on the same level. “How can you plan to feel a certain way for someone? Do you not feel anything for me at all?”
“Of course I do. Dallas … I care about you.” Her face is sincere, but it looks pained.
“You just don’t want to.”
She huffs. “I just don’t think I’m ready to be in another relationship yet.”
“Well, I’m not sleeping with anyone else. Are you?”
“No,” she says, sounding offended, like how could I even ask her that.
“That pretty much makes us exclusive then, Rafferty.”
“Dallas …”
“It’s because you’re scared. You’re so damn scared of everything. You’re scared to be late on an assignment, late for work, of what you feel for me, of what we are when we’re together, of the things you want from me and from what I want from you. Everything. You let your fear control your life.”
“I do not. I control my life.”
“Around fear.”
“Just because I’m not ready, or because I’m not sure what I want, doesn’t mean I’m letting fear control me.”
I stare at her. That’s exactly what she’s doing. “I get it. Let’s get out of here.”
“Dallas …,” she says, but I’m already climbing on the bike.
I can’t believe she really isn’t willing to face her feelings for me. I’m almost breathless with how bad it hurts.
“Sometimes when we’re hurt, the easiest way to deal with the pain is to blame it on someone else.”
—Carmyn Rafferty
“WHAT are you supposed to wear to this thing?” Ava asks. We’re standing in front of my closet trying to pick my outfit.
“I’m not sure. Dallas said a swimsuit underneath whatever I don’t mind getting wet and possibly ruined. Same with the shoes.” The Fiji brothers are putting on a foam party in a rented warehouse. They’re charging twenty-five bucks per entry, but the brothers and their plus-ones get in free. I’m Dallas’s plus one, which, if I think about it enough, technically means it’s our first real date.
I didn’t point this out to Dallas, though, and he didn’t mention the word “date,” either. He’s been distant with me since that day in the rain. I can’t blame him. It makes me sad, but I don’t know how to fix it.
Well, that’s not exactly true. To fix things I’d have to tear down all the walls between us. And I’m just not certain I’m ready for that. The worst part is I didn’t want him to say those things to me because I didn’t want to change anything between us. But things have changed anyway. To a tense, unsettled place that feels like it’s on the precipice of something important. And I don’t want to rock the boat because I don’t know what’s on either side, or which way we’ll fall.
“You could just go in your swimsuit,” Ava says and turns around, checking her makeup again in the wall-length mirror. She’s going out with Denton tonight. Ever since I told Denton about how hot Ava thinks he is, they’ve been talking a lot. I’m glad to see he’s finally asked her out.
“Or not. It’s not a beach party.”
“Well, neither are Halloween parties. It’s just an excuse for girls to wear the least amount of clothing they can get away with. I promise you, you won’t be the only chick showing up in your swimsuit tonight.”
I smile. “You should come!” Dallas doesn’t like to be around Denton, but it’s a freaking warehouse. I’m sure the place is big enough for the both of them. And maybe if Dallas is around Denton enough he’ll finally realize he’s blaming Denton unfairly. Denton can see it; he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He and I had a conversation about it after Dallas told me they’re brothers. It’s a sad situation and there has to be something that can be done to fix it.
Ava’s eyes widen in excitement, but she still shakes her head. “I dunno. Twenty-five dollars just to get in is pricey for a first date, don’t ya think?”
> “Not really. No alcohol for him to feel obligated to buy—something to do with liability, so everyone’s drinking before or outside. All he’ll have to pay for is your entry. Call and ask him.”
She’s grinning, full on giddy now. She pulls her cell phone out of her purse and makes the call.
This will be so much fun! Neither of us has ever been to a foam party before. And I’ll be able to dance with Dallas and make my way to Ava when he hangs with his boys.
Ava tells Denton our plan, silent while he replies.
“Yeah, the Fiji house is hosting it,” Ava says into the phone, and then her face droops into a frown. “Why not?” She looks up to me. “He says he can’t go because he hasn’t been invited.”
“Well, tell him we’re inviting him now.” Hopefully this will work. And I think it makes Dallas sad too, to have a brother, but not be able to be brothers with him.
Ava does and looks back up at me, disappointed. “He says he has to be invited by a Fiji brother.”
I get Dallas not wanting Denton around, but this is kind of mean.
“Well, all right,” Ava says. “I’ll see you in an hour.” She hangs up, defeated.
“I’ll talk to Dallas.” Ava doesn’t know that Dallas and Denton are brothers, only that they don’t get along. I’m not even sure what to say to Dallas, but getting them to talk to each other will have to start somewhere.
I’m buckling my sandal when I hear Dallas’s bike roar into the parking lot. I grab the small bag with a towel in it. “Let me see what I can do,” I say to Ava.
She smiles up at me. “Tell him he if he doesn’t let Denton come, he doesn’t get inside your panties anymore.”
“Ava!” I swing my bag at her.
“What?” she asks, laughing. “It’ll work. Trust me. The guy has a thing for your bearded clam.”
“Oh God. That sounds so disgusting,” I say as I leave our room. The problem with threatening Dallas in this way is that I kind of have a thing for his … thing too. So unless I’m really desperate and think I can stick to a threat of keeping him out of my panties, I better not threaten him with it. Especially with how distant he’s been. I’m actually nervous to ask him about Denton too, but I think it’s important enough—for both of them—to ask anyway.
He shuts off his bike when he sees me coming out of the dorms. Grinning, he says, “You look hot.”
I smile. Perfect. He’s in a good mood. “You look hot too.” He’s wearing swim trunk-type shorts and no shirt. The cut along his muscles and the detail of each tattoo are on full display, and I’m certain now I can’t threaten to keep him out of my panties. “So, I have a favor to ask.”
His eyebrows rise. “And what’s that?”
“Ava and Denton are going out tonight—”
His brows drop, but I keep speaking. “And I wanted them to come to the foam party, but Denton said he can’t unless he’s invited.”
He runs his hand down his scruffy face. “Really, Rafferty?”
“He doesn’t have to hang out with us. I’m sure you guys can avoid each other just fine in that large of a place.”
Dallas shakes his head. “I have worked damn hard to get things the way they are, and I’m not about to let it all go to shit now.” His eyes pierce me and I know he won’t budge on this.
“Okay.” I’m disappointed, but there’s not much more I can do to change his mind.
I text Ava that it’s a no-go before climbing on the bike. I wrap my arms around Dallas’s bare waist. My annoyance fades. His skin is warm from being under the sun. It’s comforting in that we may not always get our way with each other, but we’re both still here. As much as we can be, I guess.
Dallas steers us to the Fiji house. Inside, a bunch of brothers and their dates are already drinking. I lean into Dallas’s shoulder. “Are you drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“How are we getting to the warehouse, then?” No matter how much I trust him, I’m not getting on the bike after he’s been drinking.
“We’re going with Randall, and he’ll drink once we get there.”
“Oh, okay,” I say relieved. We’ll be there long enough that Randall will sober up before we drive back.
He tilts my chin up, his finger soft on my skin. “Did you think I would drive drunk with you?”
“Not really. I just wanted to make sure.”
He kisses me on the lips. “Never. With you or on my own.”
His words make me so happy I lean in for another kiss, this one steamier.
We drink rum and Coke now because we won’t be able to drink later. Once we’ve all had our fill, we head over to the warehouse and find an already full parking lot. We wait to go in until Randall has had enough of the whiskey stored in the trunk to get his drunk on.
The place is packed. The Fiji boys did an excellent job with the décor—purple, green, and blue lights dance across the large space and a platform holds a booth with a live DJ. No wonder they’re charging so much at the door.
The best part, though, is the foam machines. I can see four of them from here. They shoot a huge width of white spray from the large tubes, and some kind of black plastic surrounds the main floor. I guess to keep all the foam in place?
Bodies slide against each other to the beats under the colored lights. Foam is in everyone’s hair, on their skin, saturating their clothes.
This. Is. Epic!
I look over at Dallas. We’re both smiling as he takes my hand and leads me over the plastic barrier onto the dance floor and into the foam bath.
Warmth envelops us from being surrounded by all these bodies, but the foam manages to lock the heat away from my skin. When the bubbles pop, we’re drenched in slimy, soapy liquid.
Dallas and I dance our hearts out. His bare skin slides against mine, different than the way our bodies glide together when we sweat.
He grabs my ass and pulls me closer with his leg between mine, and then he rocks his hips forward and back just the way they do in Dirty Dancing.
I throw my head back and laugh, following his lead.
We’re having so much fun, it’s almost as if that day in the rain never happened.
With everyone’s bodies bumping into us, we get pushed closer to one of the foam machines. I’m having fun until I get knocked down into the depths of the foam. I panic, trying to get out, to wipe enough off my face to take a deep breath.
Dallas pushes back the drunk couple who shoved me under the machine. “Get your shit together or get out.”
It was probably an accident, but that scared the crap out of me.
The couple grumbles at him as they disappear into the crowd.
“You okay?” Dallas asks.
I push my hair out of my face and take a few more deep inhales. “Yeah, it scared me. I couldn’t breathe in the foam.”
He holds me close as we move toward the bathrooms. “Let’s take a break. I’ll get us some water.”
We spot Randall and his date Chantalle on the way out of the fray. Dallas points to the bathrooms, and Chantalle grabs the belt loop on the back of my shorts to stay with us on our way out.
“I’ll be right back,” Dallas says. “If you get out before me, wait right here.” He kisses me and takes off to get us some water.
“He is so hot,” Chantalle says as we go into the women’s bathroom.
I look at her and laugh. She’s with Randall, but Dallas’s hotness is hard to miss no matter whom you’re with. “That, he is.”
We stand in the line for the stalls. “I don’t know how you managed to snag that one. I’ve seen women try since my freshman year, and never has he settled down with any of them. And no offense,” she looks me up and down, “there were a few of them who were much hotter.”
What a bitch! Just because she says “no offense” does not make what she said any less offensive. I don’t like her. And I’m not giving her a pass because she’s been drinking so her tongue is a little looser. I say what’s on my mind. “Well, whatever Dallas
’s reasons, I’m still with him and you’re still with Randall.” Randall isn’t ugly by any stretch, but he’s no Dallas.
The skin at the corner of her eyes tightens, but I step away and into the next available stall before she can say anything else. I line the toilet and pee as quickly as I can to avoid her on my way out. We’ll have to ride with her back to the Fiji house, but I prefer to not have to look at her any more than necessary.
She’s not in line when I‘m done and washed, so I rush out before she appears.
Dallas is standing outside the door, with three clear Solo cups of water. I take the third and toss it in the trash and then come back for mine.
Dallas looks at me in question. “What was that about?”
Chantalle exits but doesn’t look at Dallas or me. She gets lost in the throng once she crosses the plastic barrier.
“I don’t like her. At all.”
Dallas laughs. “Why not?”
“Because she’s a bitch and says stupid stuff.”
“What’d she say to you?”
I take a quick sip of water, but it turns into chugging the whole thing. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown away that third cup. I wipe my mouth. “Something about how she doesn’t know how I managed to get you because some of the women you’ve been with were hotter than me.” I shake my head, annoyed with her again.
The heat in Dallas’s eyes spears me where I stand. “Maybe according to her. But not to me.”
That heat courses through me and gathers between my thighs. I stand on my tiptoes and reach my mouth to his. He backs me against the wall and we kiss until the next person comes out. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she says as she hustles past.
Dallas and I laugh. I guess we got a little carried away. “Well, that’s too bad,” Dallas says. “I was hoping she could be a girl here you could have fun with.”
Wicked Thing Page 14
