Southern Player

by Jessica Peterson

  First time she’s ever called me something like that.

  It makes my chest hurt.

  “Yeah?” I breathe.

  I don’t know how or why or when. But her hand is on the small of my back. She glides it up toward my shoulder blade, sweet and slow, nails trailing ribbons of sensation along my skin.

  “I love the feel of you,” she says.

  Aw, shit.

  My mind skips forward four steps. I see myself sinking inside her, I see me reaching down and playing with her clit while I thrust and I thrust, deep, just how she needs it. She comes, clamping down on me. Moaning my name.

  I see myself telling her I love her.

  I won’t. Not tonight. Not when there’s a chance it’s coming from a place I’m not proud of.

  But the idea is there.

  The desire to tell her is there.

  I give her more of what she loves instead. Resting my weight on my good arm, I reach down and take my dick in my hand.

  “Stay with me,” I say.

  Grace opens her eyes. They’re clear. And kind.

  I’m gonna break.

  She’s gonna break me.

  Nudging my nose against her cheek, I draw myself up her slit.

  Her breath catches. Head falling back as I touch my head to her clit.

  A tremble moves through her legs. Her gaze, though, never wavers. Her brows just come together, like she’s hurting. Holding back.

  Scared, but showing me anyway.

  I drag my cock down a little. Notch myself at her entrance. She makes a noise—a plea, a moan—when I set my other elbow down, inadvertently pressing into her a little.

  “Okay?”

  “I’m—I’m…”

  I kiss her mouth. She feels tight tight tight and so fucking soft around me already. I could stay right here and come, no problem.

  “What?”

  She closes her eyes. Her mouth still on mine but not kissing me back.

  “Baby.” I kiss her forehead. I’m shaking with the effort to keep still. To stay where I am and not sink into her. “You need to let me know you’re okay before I go any further.”

  When her eyes open, they’re wet.

  Really wet.

  “This is just exactly how I wanted it to be,” she whispers. “This is a dream.”

  I feel the blare of my pulse. My cock’s insistent, needy throb.

  Her joy.

  Everything else falls away. Can’t even grab at things I worry about—that’s how quickly they retreat.

  This.

  This is all there is.

  “Gracie, you’ve always been my dream,” I say, searching her eyes. Seeing everything I need there.

  I press forward. She’s narrow enough that I have to flex my ass muscles to sink inside her.

  Her eyes flutter shut, like she wants to look away, but then she opens them again. Breathing as we watch each other watch each other.

  Good.

  So.

  Fucking. Good.

  A familiar tightening in my groin. An unfamiliar one in my chest.

  I wanna fall apart. I feel it coming. But she needs me to keep it together. She’s already lost. We already got her there.

  So I kiss the tip of her nose. Her chin. The hollow beneath her ear. I surround her as best I can, I curl my hips forward until I’m sunk to the hilt.

  For a second I just stay there. Gritting my teeth. Her body so warm and slick and soft. Trusting. Eyes still on mine.

  I have never—

  I’ve never—

  Fuck, I can’t, so I just move. I draw back my hips, slow. Thrust forward. Slow. Using my whole body.

  Gracie rocks in time to my movements, mouth open. Canting her hips to meet me at the top of every stroke. Our bodies rising and falling. Rising and falling. Perfectly, effortlessly in synch. Eager, but not rushing.

  She moans when I swivel to hit her clit. Her brows come together again, eyes dark and glassy. Hand on my chest, fingers digging into my skin. Like she’s falling and she’s desperately trying to grab onto something, anything.

  Like she’s overwhelmed. Helpless.

  I’m hit by a rush of emotion. After all she’s been through—the disappointment, the heartache—she’s still allowing herself to be vulnerable with me.

  She’s letting me in. Eyes on mine. Scared but meeting me head-on anyway.

  I grab her hand. Slide my fingers between hers as I bring our joined hands over her head.

  And then I move. Harder now. Deep, athletic dips of my body as I grind into her.

  I adore you, I say with my lips, moving them down her throat.

  I want you, I say with my legs, using them to drive into her, again and again and again.

  I love you, I say with my fingers, twining them more tightly around hers.

  “Luke,” she pleads, head falling back when I thrust my deepest yet.

  I take her sweet mouth in mine. Finally closing my eyes because I’m gonna die of too much if I don’t. Tangling our eyelashes.

  My heart is in my mouth. Can she taste it, I wonder?

  She’s roping her arm around my neck now. Digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. Making me wanna howl.

  I reach down and grab her knee. Guide it up to my waist, deepening our angle just enough.

  Then I swivel my hips. Trying to hit her clit.

  I guess I do, because her cunt clenches around me. Just once. Softly.

  Almost there.

  I’m there, too. Holding on by a thread.

  I look her in the eye. Then I lean down and kiss her. Deep. Good. The kind of kiss that draws her up—I know she likes it when I use my tongue, my teeth. When I tilt my head a little and pluck at her top lip.

  Mine.

  That’s all I got. After getting so pensive tonight, contemplating so many competing ideas—

  Mine.

  I swivel my hips again. She cries out into my mouth, teeth clanking against mine. Eyes closed.

  I do it again. Those sparks at the base of my spine turning into a full on explosion.

  She. Comes.

  Squeezing my dick in a vise. Her whole body convulsing. She grabs at me, like she needs something to hold on to. Someone to hold her.

  I thrust again through her spasms.

  My vision goes blank.

  And then I come, too, with a roar I don’t recognize as my own.

  Burying my face in her neck, I pour myself into her. Balls tightening, cock pulsing. Cum all over the place.

  I forgot how messy—

  “Shit,” I say, pulling back to look at her face. “I didn’t ask if I could come inside you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she breathes. Hands on the small of my back, holding me against her. Keeping me inside her. “We’ll be okay, Luke.”

  Her eyes are still closed. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. Like she’s reveling in the sensation of me.

  Like she never wants to let me go.

  I scrunch up my face against the intensity of everything that makes me feel.

  My cum is already seeping out of her, soaking the sheets.

  The smell of sex and sweat fills my head.

  My heart is racing.

  “Still think we’re too different?” she asks with a scoff.

  I scoff, too. “I know we’re not different here. In bed. But outside of it…”

  Her breath catches. A pause. Then she opens her eyes and says: “Ever consider that’s one of the things I adore most about you? How different you are from anyone else I’ve been with?”

  “You mean that?”

  “I do.” She reaches up and runs her hand through my hair. “I like your world. I like it so much I want you to show me more of it.”

  Christ do her fingernails feel good against my scalp.

  When was the last time someone loved up on me this way? Fun is one thing. But this…

  With the right person, this is heaven.

  “You really wanna see more?” I ask
.

  The skin around her eyes is crinkling again. “I do.”

  Yup. I am fucking done here.

  Talk about whiplash. An hour ago, I was nursing a very real fear that this was never gonna work out.

  And now here I am, sticking my neck out like it definitely will.

  Lord have mercy.

  I don’t know if I’m planting seeds of hope or just being a dumb jerkoff who lets the wrong head lead him around.

  Either way, I ain’t saying no to Gracie Jackson.

  “All right,” I said. “Lemme take you out on a date, then. Show you my favorite spots. Show you around the farm. But on one condition.”

  She smiles, and I swear my heart stops beating for a minute.

  “What’s that?”

  “You spend the night this time.”

  Her smile broadens. “Deal. But only if you spend the night here.”

  “Right now?” I say, pulling back in surprise.

  She nods. “Right now.”

  “Wow. Lots of firsts tonight.”

  “Hey.” She shrugs. Fucking adorable. “Maybe I wanna try this whole making love thing again.”

  “I was that good, huh?”

  “I was that good.”

  I kiss her.

  Maybe it’s a reckless kiss. Maybe it isn’t.

  But I’m sure as hell gonna do it again. And again and again. Until she leaves me or we burn each other to the ground or global warming ends life on this earth as we know it.

  “Yeah you were good. Better than that. The best,” I say.

  I never been a liar. Tonight’s no exception.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke

  “Jesus fuck, Luke, are you whistling?”

  I glance up from the crate of watermelons I just dropped on the counter in the kitchen at The Pearl. Eli is looking at me like I got a dick growing out of my forehead—with deeply confused, unadulterated disgust.

  I hook my thumbs through my belt loops and smile proudly. I’m being a total ass preening like this, but I can’t help it.

  “Sure am. It’s Shania Twain. You recognize the song?”

  “Beat off,” he says, sidling up beside me to survey the melons. “I know what this means, by the way.”

  “The song is ‘You’re Still the One’. Total Shania sleeper, but probably my favorite,” I say. “Anyway. Tell me—what does me showing up on a Saturday afternoon whistling mean?”

  He shoots me a dark look. “Please. No details. I don’t need to hear the specifics of you…doing whatever it is you’re doing with my sister.”

  My pulse jumps at the mention of Gracie. For half a second a shadow moves over the brightness rising in my chest. We still have a lot to figure out.

  But last night was fucking fantastic. And this morning—

  Lordy, it was even better. We made love a handful of times between when we got to her condo and when I left a few hours ago. Also checked that sixty-nine line item off her bucket list. Played a fun little game of just the tip, butt stuff edition, too.

  My dick is sore, and I am fucking exhausted.

  Worth it.

  She’s due at the farm tonight at six. I glance at the clock above a row of lowboys that line the opposite wall. Only three hours, twenty-four minutes aaaand eight seconds to go.

  “You know I ain’t never been one to kiss and tell,” I say, unhooking my thumbs to slide my hands in my pockets. I lean against the door jamb, crossing one ankle over the other as I watch Eli lift a watermelon out of the crate and set it on a cutting board. “But I want you to know that Gracie and I are having a real good time together. She’s—E, she’s everything.”

  Eli grabs a humungous knife and wipes it slowly on a towel. Eyes on me the whole time.

  He’s never been known for his subtlety.

  “Gracie is special. I’m not just sayin’ that because I’m her brother and I’m proud as hell of her. I’m sayin’ it because it’s true. Yeah, she’s successful. But she’s also a good fuckin’ person. She gives a shit. And she deserves someone who’s as decent and as big hearted as she is.”

  I blink. How did he—

  Shit, he’s giving me advice I needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

  He’s pointing out all the things Gracie girl is on the inside. Still acknowledging all the amazing things she is on the outside, too.

  Just focusing on the deep stuff. The stuff that, like she said, really matters.

  “I’m tryin’ to be that man,” I say.

  He grunts, slicing the watermelon clean in half. Inside is bright pink and perfectly juicy. Just like Gracie.

  I blink, trying to blot out the image of her on her hands and knees this morning, pussy spread wide in front of me as I slipped my fingers into her from behind.

  I can’t think about that shit when I’m in Elijah’s kitchen. It’s disrespectful.

  Still. That image sticks around for another heartbeat. Too fucking sweet to let go.

  “You bein’ good to her?” he asks, glancing up from the melon. “Y’all not breaking each other’s hearts? ’Cause I know y’all want different things out of this…little arrangement you got goin’ on.”

  I nod. “We’re working on it, yeah. I was up front with her about my intentions. I told her I wanted a relationship, and she said she’d keep an open mind about it.”

  He slices the melon into quarters. Then eighths. “Is she? ’Cause she’s gotta be good to you, too. I told her as much.”

  “She’s been real good to me.”

  He shoots me a dark look.

  “As a friend, I mean. Emotionally speaking. I’m doin’ my best to respect her wishes while winnin’ her over at the same time. Matter of fact, I’m taking her out on a date tonight.”

  “Oh?” E raises a brow. “She agreed to that?”

  “Sure did. Gonna show her around the farm a bit. Then take her to some of my favorite spots out on Sullivan’s.”

  Sullivan’s Island is my old stomping ground. Before I moved to the farm earlier this year, I had a little bungalow out there by Mama’s house. It’s a sleepy place that’s gotten a bit more touristy over the years, thanks to the incredible beaches. But there’s still some really great, locally owned spots on the island to grab a bite and a beer.

  “Lacy’s BBQ?” he asks.

  I grin. “Yup. They know me there. Used to pretty much live at their bar.”

  “Lacy is good people. Man makes the best pulled pork in the city if you ask me. And then what? Drinks across the street at The Raven?”

  “You got it.” I rub my hands together. “Been a while since I got out that way. Lookin’ forward to it.”

  Eli hands a perfect wedge of watermelon to me. Takes one for himself. Takes a bite.

  “Damn that’s good,” he says.

  I take a bite myself. Juice running down my arm as I take another. Perfectly sweet. Firm. Not the least bit wormy or watery.

  Tastes like sun and summer.

  “Thanks. Found this varietal from a guy out on Edisto—swears it’s the low country’s best.”

  “Gonna have to agree with him on that point.” Eli fishes a few seeds out of the half-eaten slice in his hand. He narrows his eyes at it. Wheels starting to turn. “I’m thinking some sort of watermelon gazpacho is a good call here. Make it very classic with cucumber and red pepper. Nice hit of red wine vinegar. Garlic always spices things up…I’m thinkin’ a watermelon cocktail’s too obvious. Could do some grown-up popsicles, though.”

  I nod. “I like that idea. Maybe mix a little silver tequila in there. Mint and lime, too.”

  “Fuck yeah,” he says, grabbing the pen from behind his ear and jotting down a note on a nearby clipboard. “So what are you gonna show Gracie at the farm? The mill where you’re gonna be makin’ me more grits I hope? I got dibs on your next batch.”

  “I know, I know. Corn is comin’ up real nice this year. But yeah. She said she wanted to see more of the farm, so…really, I just think she wants to see me on a tractor,
like, naked or somethin’,” I joke.

  Eli looks up from his clipboard. “I told you I don’t want details.”

  “Sorry,” I say, laughing as I hold up my hands. “Sorry. Just bein’ honest.”

  “If I’m bein’ honest, I’m surprised Gracie’s so intrigued by your…tractor, I guess. She’s always been more of a city girl.”

  That shadow moves across my chest again. I look down. Unhook my ankles, scuffing my toe against the tile floor.

  “She’s been good about keeping an open mind about things,” I say. “But yeah. She’s definitely a city girl. Kind of—well, not a sticking point for me, ’cause I love how involved she is here in town. Got a nice life for herself, you know? But I do think about how our lives are not at all alike. I’m just a country boy who likes his quiet, and she’s this sexy—”

  “Dude, come the fuck on.”

  “This sophisticated woman who likes being in the thick of things. I love that she’s so accomplished and so ambitious. When we’re alone, Gracie and I get along like peas and carrots. I’m worried, though, that tryin’ to exist outside that little bubble…” I shrug. “It might be tough.”

  Eli’s brow is furrowed. He takes a minute to think before responding.

  “At the end of the day, I just want y’all to be happy,” he says, crossing his arms. “I hear what you’re saying. The two of you do lead very different lives. But I’ve watched Gracie get hurt time and time again by guys who were just as involved downtown as she is. Just because people live in the same place and run in the same circles doesn’t mean they’ll be happy together. I think it just comes down to y’all’s willingness to compromise. To find some common ground. If Gracie’s keepin’ an open mind, and you are, too, then you guys are already halfway there.”

  I swallow. Take a breath. “I’m just worried I’ll hold her back, you know? I don’t want to take her away from her life here. I see how much it lights her up. I see how ambitious she is. She’s got big plans. And I don’t know if me being around will help or hurt her chances of makin’ ’em happen.”

  “That’s for her to decide, isn’t it? Don’t go patronizin’ my sister—that’s a surefire way of losin’ her respect. And if you lose that, you’re gonna lose her. Look.” He sighs, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on the stainless steel counter behind him. “Just the fact that she agreed to go on a date with you how many days after y’all first, er, hung out is a good sign you’re doin’ something right. When she came to me to discuss the idea, she said point blank she had her guard up. And for good reason. She’s been disappointed. Shit on. Left.”