Bodacious

by C. M. Lally

  His caramel-colored eyes lock with mine. There’s a storm raging inside them that is as turbulent as the one thundering outside. He’s patiently waiting for my response. His hand hovers over my thighs, not wanting to touch me until I say yea or nay. The warmth of his body torments my skin. It aches for his touch. I lift my thigh to brush against his palm, stealing his heat for a brief moment before lowering it again.

  He laughs under his breath, and I can tell he’s at a loss for what to do about me. I want him to give me a reason to throw all caution to the wind. I may not know a hell of a lot about him, but I know he’s funny and he’s a good man. It’s a start.

  The only other thing I know is that he’s got a fire burning in me that I don’t want to blow out. I pray it rages into an inferno because I finally feel alive and in control.

  I reach for his hand, and he withdraws, taking a step back and his heat with him. Maybe I need another approach. I remove my shirt and bra tossing them to the floor and shimmy out of my still-damp jeans, all while balancing on the bathroom counter. The only thing left is my thong, and I watch his hands clench as I hook my thumbs under the side strings, sliding it off.

  He still hasn’t stepped closer to me. I tempt him further by pressing my legs outward into a wide-legged yoga straddle, giving him the fullest view of my womanhood possible. “Happen,” I breathe, letting go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  A small smile creeps onto his face, and a dimple appears. He takes one step forward before falling to his knees; looking up at me before placing his hands on my inner thighs.

  “I need to hear you say it,” he sighs heavily. “I need to know it’s not the alcohol talking.”

  “Brax, it’s not the alcohol. It’s the thrill I feel rush up my spine every time you smile. It’s the infusion of warmth I feel every time you touch me. It’s the clench of my pussy when I see you holding tight onto something you want. Well, that one might be the alcohol talking.”

  We both laugh, and there goes that zing up my spine and through my skin— his hands knead my legs as he inches closer to me. He’s within a hair’s breadth from what he desires, and I want him to take it. I want to give him everything, and I want him to have all of me. But he’s going to have to work for it.

  I push him back quickly and jump off the counter, running for the bed laughing. He’s behind me giving chase, reaching out for my hand and grabbing it just as we both skid across the mattress, bunching the covers underneath us. I’m laughing hard and snorting again, when he wraps one hand around my wrists, restraining them with his solid grip.

  His body lies on mine.

  “Why am I the only one naked?” He traces my lips with one finger while I speak.

  “Shhhh. No more talking.” His lips nibble at mine. The tip of his tongue coaxing them to open.

  His hand slides up into my hair cradling me gently, caressing my tongue with soft kisses, and igniting me with a heat that will surely blister my skin from the inside out.

  I’m falling into a very deep crevice here, and I don’t want to crawl out in the morning when the storm breaks. I can’t explain it, but I’m melting. He’s worshipping me, and that’s exactly what I want and where I need to be.

  His beautiful face with all of its worry lines etched into his skin hovers over mine. There’s a question burning in his eyes. It’s troubling him. I scrape the tip of my finger across the scruff of his beard pulling on a little whisker of gray hair on his chin. He’s a man that’s been around the block a few times and knows what he wants; he doesn’t play games— he plays for keeps.

  “I know you said you want this to happen, but I can’t help but ask again. Once it does, there’s no hiding from it or each other. We have to live and travel together on tour. This is a small family and the rumor mill is a vicious but living thing.”

  My eyes dart up to his as he speaks the truth. I may come from Hollywood, the vilest place on Earth, but rumors hurt no matter where you are. They cut deep and sometimes they can ruin you. Am I willing to chance it? I can’t. I just can’t do it. I roll over onto my side and curl up into a ball covering my nakedness with my arms.

  The bed sinks down and then springs back up once his weight is off it. The bathroom door closes with a soft push and then suddenly I hear the hair dryer running through the door.

  I pull the bedspread over me to cover up and bury my face in the covers to cry. Hot tears roll over my cheeks and soak the bed. My breathing comes in long spasms of gasping as I think about what I’ve done. I’m ashamed. He’s never going to look at me the same way again.

  The hair dryer stops, and a few seconds later the door opens. I know he’s standing at the edge of the bed. I felt his knee bump into the mattress. “Come on, Doc. Put these on so you don’t get cold.”

  He was drying my clothes with the hairdryer. I don’t budge. Embarrassment covers my face if only he could see it. He bumps his knees on the bed again to get my attention.

  “Just leave me be to nurse my broken pride.”

  “Broken pride?” He pulls the cover off me, and there I lie in my full naked glory. He pulls on my foot and drags me to the edge of the bed in front of him, and gets down on his knees so that we are face-to-face.

  “Go ahead. Rub it in. I’m already embarrassed, but I’m also a big girl. I can take it.”

  “Doc. I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely.” He lifts my face with a finger under my chin and holds it there, staring intently into my eyes.

  “I made a mistake when I decided to treat you like a sister since that first day. I’ve been keeping my distance and not speaking my mind, but that’s torture to a man like me.” He takes my thong from his pocket and spreads it open with his fingers, sliding it onto each leg. He even helps me stand and position it correctly before making me sit again.

  “You are the most intelligent woman I know. The passion that you have for your job, the coolness that you exert under the chaos in the ring, the honesty in your words when you speak, the gentleness shown in the throes of pain, and all the way up to the look of mischief in your eyes when you are up to no good— those are your sexiest traits to me. Every man should be looking for that in a woman. Now don’t get me wrong. Your body is a bombshell; a gorgeous work of honed art that I’d love to run my tongue over every inch of. And your hair, my God, it’s like a beautiful sunset. I want to wrap myself up in it and run away with you. My dick got hard when we were downstairs laughing in a puddle of water on the floor, not from the naughty display of sex kitten on the bathroom counter.” He strips out of his flannel shirt and slides it over my bare skin and around my back, gently persuading my other arm to bend and twist into the other open sleeve. His scent clings to the fabric, and I inhale it deeply.

  “So from now on, I’m going to treat you like the woman you are and the friend you have become. I have no other female friends, so this should be interesting. I don’t trust women. I don’t have the patience for their mind games and habits. My son needs me and I plan on being there for him because his mother isn’t.” He starts at the throat buttoning the tiny red fasteners into their holes one by one. “But you, Doc, are different. This scenario will probably happen again. I hope that it does, but it’s not going to happen while you’re drunk. When it does, though, know that I come with a shit ton of baggage and be prepared for it.”

  He finishes pulling the last button through its hole as he finishes his speech. We lock eyes again, and his are clear as the morning sun. His conscience is clear while I still feel riddled with dirty guilt. “I’m so...” His finger presses against my lips to still them.

  “I swear if you say you’re sorry I’m gonna make you walk to Sioux City.”

  “Tired. I’m so tired. Will you tell me about your son?”

  “Oh shit, my son!” He stands and pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at the time. “I was supposed to call Rowan fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand. I’m going to go to the vending machine for
a drink. I’ll give you some privacy.” He starts to dial his number as I go in search of my pants. They are lying on the counter, spread out and smoothed flat so they won’t wrinkle. It looks like he attempted to dry them with the hair dryer. Aww, what a sweetheart.

  I walk past him to grab a few dollars from my purse when he swats me on the ass with a stinging smack and winks. He whispers “Water” and points to me, swinging his hands up like he’s holding a fake bottle and gesturing for me to drink.

  I grab one of the room keys before leaving and almost close the door before peeping my head back inside. “If you want me to drink water, you’re gonna have to chase me and make me.” I slam the door so fast; my hair gets caught in it but just a little bit. I still take off running.

  I make it to the elevator and press the button before he opens the door to come after me; his phone is still in his hand, and he’s talking. The elevator door opens, and I jump in, pressing the ‘close door’ button ten times before it finally closes on him yelling my name.

  “Haha. Take that for slappin’ my ass hard.” I rub it gently; the sting still burns through the thickness of my jeans.

  I take the elevator up to confuse him. I’m not going back down to the bar. I really do need a drink and something salty. Maybe some chips. The elevator dings at the tenth floor and I get off, looking for the sign that says Vending with an arrow pointing. I punch in the numbers for Funyuns and buy a Sprite to drink while the little spiral swirls and swirls, taking forever to drop my bright, happy bag of fried goodness.

  The tenth floor is where the business center and conference rooms are. A door to one of the conference rooms is open, so I walk in popping an irregular-shaped Funyon in my mouth. Wow. What an amazing view overlooking the valley. It’s dark outside, but there’s enough light when the lightning strikes to see how beautiful it is here.

  I pull out a chair facing the windows and sit down to dial my sister.

  “Hey. I’m sorry about before. There’s a storm here and I drank a little too much with my anxiety. I’m better now.”

  Monty rambles on about her problems with Mom like we never ended our previous call. That’s just like Monty— only cares about what affects her. I grumble and say “uh huh” in the appropriate places, hearing every word but not caring. My mind has already drifted back to Brax.

  He’s such a great guy. It sounds like he’s got some problems though, but he’s driven by his passion for bull riding. I’m glad he stopped us earlier. That would have been a huge mistake on my part. I’m the team physician. I can’t get involved with a patient. What the hell was I thinking?

  I know. Since we’ve spent almost every free moment talking about non-consequential things, watching TV, and working out together, I feel closer to him than the other people on the circuit.

  Besides, I’m going to get my camper soon. I’ll be driving it with the other new staff members and my time will be focused on other things. Right now, everyone else sets up the treatment and therapy rooms along with the gym space. I need some distance from him. I’m falling too fast, as usual.

  “Hello” blares through the phone bringing me back to reality.

  “Sorry, Monty. I heard you. And yes, congratulations on your Women In Film achievement. I know that’s a big deal. I’m very proud of you.” I listen to her blather on about choosing a dress and shoes, as well as a hairstylist for the awards dinner...blah, blah, blah. I know I sound mean. Sometimes I feel mean because she’s so blind to the rest of the world’s problems; it kills me. But she’s my sister, and I love her.

  A shadow crosses over the doorway, and I look up to see Braxton filling it. The soft light of the hallway is smothered by his massive shoulders. He’s leaning against it with his legs crossed, shaking his index finger at me like I’ve been bad.

  “Monty, I have to go. I’ll call you back in a few days. Yes, I promise. Bye.” I slide the phone in my pocket and walk to the window for one last look at the storm wreaking havoc across the valley.

  Braxton approaches me from behind playfully pushing in the back of my locked knee making me stumble forward slightly. “Hey, you were supposed to drink some water to flush out that alcohol. You can’t take care of me if you don't take care of yourself.” He teases brashly.

  “And that’s the heart of it, isn’t it?” I turn away and start walking toward the door.

  “The heart of what? What’s wrong?”

  I stop, clenching my fists because the thought burns through me right now. He’s my patient, and we can’t be together. It’s unethical.

  “C’mon, Doc. Talk to me.” He pulls at my arm, turning me sideways to face him.

  “There’s no way we are EVER going to be together, Braxton. You’re under my care on this tour. I could lose my license to practice. We can’t be together. Go back to treating me like your sister, because that’s how it has to be.”

  Chapter 10 – Braxton

  WHAT THE HELL JUST happened? Yeah, I wanted her to sober up, but not get the fun sucked out of her. I wanted to talk and tell her all about Rowan. I guess her sister put her in that mood. Jesus, I can’t handle a woman’s moods. That’s why I left them all and joined the rodeo.

  Multiple lightning strikes light up the sky, but at least the rain isn’t pouring down. I’m going to leave her be for the night and give her some distance. Surely the space between the hotel and the camper will be enough.

  My keys rattle in the lock as I twist them quickly to escape the cold wind beating on my back. It hasn’t lessened at all, but at least I’m not soaked for a second time tonight. I take a quick hot shower and pop in a movie, settling into the couch and pull back on the recliner arm to relax. Just an hour ago, I was sucking on her tits and looking at the best sunset view of my fucking life. How did it all go so wrong that quickly?

  Never mind, I know. I stopped to ask the question. The one I should have asked another woman almost eight years ago but wasn’t sober enough too. That mistake still haunts me.

  Mistake? Rowan isn’t a mistake; he’s my blessing. She’s my worst fucking nightmare. His mother. I can’t even call her my ex-wife because I don’t want to be reminded that we promised God ‘til death do us part. What a fucking joke. Oh, my stupid youth. When I had balls enough to think my life would be exactly what I wanted it to be. Playing house with her seemed like it would be fun since I’d never had a place to call home. Yeah, that’s a really fucking funny joke.

  My mom worked four jobs raising my sisters and me. She was never at our apartment but always made sure we had clean clothes and groceries. When my sisters started hitting sixteen, one-by-one they started to disappear too until one day, I was all alone.

  It was great at first; until it got lonely at night with nothing to do in the summers. I started hanging out at the bar on the corner. The owner, Stu McGleason, knew my mom and took pity on me. He taught me how to operate the mechanical bull that the patrons rode for fun. That kept me off the streets of Dallas. At first, I only got to ride it when I was trying to fix it, making sure it works after each adjustment or repair was complete. That’s when the bug hit me.

  I had found the one thing I was good at. I could ride that thing like no one’s business. People started making bets on me. Stu got a timer and clocked me just like at the rodeo. I developed a following, and before we knew it, we had bull riding competitions on the weekends. Months turned into years, and when I was twenty-one and finally old enough to be in the bar, the PBR came to town.

  A lot has happened since then. Life has gone up and back down again so many times like the bulls that I ride— it’s unpredictable. I’ve lost track of the unmentionable events and can barely remember the more significant ones.

  It feels like I’m thirty-six knocking on sixty. I’m divorced from a drug addict who is the mother of my child; I’m a father to a child that has to take care of his mother while I do my best to coach him through it on a daily basis over the fucking telephone. It sucks living on the road.

  I’ve begged him to come liv
e with me and be home-schooled on the road, but he stays with her. I get annoyed with his loyalty sometimes, but it’s also what I’m most proud of. He doesn’t give up on people like I do. He has a deep, abiding passion for those he loves.

  Maybe someday, I’ll find that trait within myself, but right now he’s the only thing I care about. I will ride these roads and bulls until I get that World Champion title and the money that goes with it. Then I’ll hang up my spurs and be the father I’m supposed to be, with my son at my side.

  I roll over and wipe the tears welling up in my eyes away. I don’t let this happen often, but these melancholy moments make me stronger. They give me focus and provide me with a renewed sense of purpose. Maybe I should reflect and show gratitude for my life every day. A crack of thunder shakes the camper as if it’s punctuating my thought. Yeah, maybe I should start to do that.

  THE MORNING SUN SHINES through the curtains that I forgot to close, and I squint hard to block it out. It was a rough night for sleeping, but the day is dawning and getting away from me already. So it’s up and at ‘em time.

  Ice-cold water from the bathroom sink stings my eyes but clears the sleep away. I pull a clean shirt over my head and lace up my running shoes to get in a quick wake-me-up run.

  Everything smells clean in the valley. There’s no city pollution here. I can smell the Sweet Alyssum flowers that are blooming and the wet dirt rising off the pavement as my feet pound down on the stretch of country road I’m running on.

  When I get back to the camper, Noa is out on the far corner of the restaurant lot in a grassy area stretching into her yoga poses and taking in the morning sun too. I watch her for a moment from the kitchen window and admire the sheer strength it takes to hold some of those poses.

  She’s a curious mix of mind and soul that I want to know, but now we have a barrier between us. It’s always been there, but now the transparency is gone. It’s been replaced by heated words and an obvious ethical restraint that I never thought of. We aren’t going to be like we were over the last two weeks. Might as well get used to it.