Burned Gasoline (14 page)

              “You’re playing a dangerous game.” His whisper landed in the hair just above her forehead.

              A tired smile went across her face. “It’s so late, we need to sleep.”

              “Can’t do that when you’re wrapped around me like this.”

              Slowly she pulled her leg back off his hip, but his large hand halted her. Instead his hand slowly moved down the side of her thigh until it smoothly disappeared underneath the fabric of her underwear and grabbed a solid chunk of butt cheek. For a while he just held it there.

              Warmth spread like a wildfire through her body creating a puddle of
want
between her legs. Simply one handful of butt cheek created that entire stir.

              “Is your mom alright? I’m sorry you had to leave in such a hurry.”

              “She’s better now. She’s with the hospice nurse I have on call, but top talking about her now or you’ll kill the vibe.”

              “Sorry.”

              He didn’t answer. Instead he kissed the top of her forehead, down the length of her nose, and across her lips. Leaving her feeling bereft.

              He didn’t give her time to think as her nipple was suddenly deep between his lips, deep enough to be touching the ridges on top inside his mouth. His mouth molding her breast with the muscles of his tongue. He went from one breast to the other while her fingers tied knots in his hair, pulling him away, them pushing him against her, all while his tongue played with her hard nipples.

              His face moved across the soft skin of her stomach until she felt him tug at her underwear with his teeth, nuzzling his nose in the apex of her thighs. For still being under the covers he successfully pulled them down and off her legs until his face found its way back up and placed kisses from hipbone to hipbone.

              “Are we, I mean you, performing cunn… cunnilingus?”

              “Stop with the fancy talk.” He mumbled. “I’m going to lick you, Raylyn. As in lapping you up like cats drink milk. LICK you. Get used to it. Let’s try this… I can go shallow and soft all over like this…”

              His mouth encircled her already swollen pussy letting his tongue softly part her lips, flicking it softly across her skin. Placing feather lights flicks on top on her engorged clit.

              “Or hard and precise like this…”

              Instantly his tongue became a rigid sword prodding her swollen clit with power enough to make her grab a hold of the bed frame above her head, letting out a scream so primal it hadn’t been heard since the dawn of time.

              “Or spear my tongue deep inside you like this…”

              His hands pulled her back down against his mouth and as her body reached his face his tongue dove deep inside her warmth until it was impossible to know where he began and she left off. His tongue made them one. Piercing deep between her lips until his nose was the single thing outside of her, nudging her clit. Painting her with his tongue, as a new Mona Lisa could appear at any seconds between her thighs.

              Her body bent backwards, trying to get away, yet stay, but his hands held her down against his mouth. Tonguing her until the sheets below them were nothing but soaked cotton material. And when the wet slurping sounds reached her ears she felt her insides quiver and there wouldn’t be long until she’d grab his hair and scream his name.

              He was driving her crazy wild. Switching between places his tongue could venture to, and the ever hanging speed of his tongue.

              “You like that?” He mumbled into the warmth of her pussy.

              “Oh, my fucking God yes!” She yelled and once again let a hand grab hold of the bed frame above her head matching another hair grabbing, pushing his face harder into her body while daring a look of what he was doing between her legs.

Chapter Seventeen

              His tongue was dancing a magical tango on her skin, but halted slightly as he must have felt her looking, and gave her an animalistic grin before moving his tongue further down to tickle the tight opening of her anus. Her hands instantly attempted to push his head away by squirming up the mattress until her head hit the headboard, but he wouldn’t allow any escaping attempts and pulled her hands away from his head and pinned them to the mattress on either side of her, holding her legs apart with the help of his broad shoulders.

              Her hips bucked up against his face repeatedly as his tongue touched the unfamiliar spot once again, tickling it, and then moved his tongue to more common grounds.

              Time stood still, yet it felt like the speed of time was racing in front of her eyes, the sky throwing shiny, colorful stars into her eyes even though her eyelids were closed so tightly she might not be able to open them again. Suddenly the most foreign burn of a flame crept up the length of her body until it prickled her scalp, making it hard to breathe, and as his finger replaced his tongue the world around her went into a spiral, making her fall from the highest of towers to land back into the reality of her own bed.

              “Now
that
was beautiful to witness.” He mumbled, before he teasingly bit the skin of her stomach.

              That night had been beautiful. Not beautiful because of the gorgeous man sleeping soundly close to her in bed, but beautiful because of his bravery to share his shattered life and letting her inside those high walls of his. She could simply watch him sleep for an eternity. He had a face that was made for exploring with the eyes: ridges, lines, dark stubble covering the bottom part of his face. His face made her insatiable. Now when she had him this close she somehow wanted more of him, as if taking him away would likely be the same feeling as a favorite toy ripped out of the hands of a teary eyed child on Christmas.

              Eventually her eyes felt heavy, and she’d nuzzled her face into the nook of his neck, kissing the soft skin just beneath his ear. He’d drawn her closer then, locking her in his arms and moaned in agreement and went back to sleep.

              “Peek-a-boo.”

              The swift voice startled her and in darkness of the room she sat up in bed, her eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. It might have been a dream, she thought, and noticed Jefferson hadn’t moved from the sound. He mustn’t have heard it, and in reality she was probably just delusional from the lack of sleep. On the other hand, it wasn’t the sound that woke her up, rather a touch of faint air being expelled when the word was uttered.

              Not wanting to wake Jefferson, she moved his hand from her waist, and put her feet onto the floor. In just a few short steps she was by the window and turn on the lamp hanging behind the curtain. There was nobody in the room. She checked the bathroom, the closet, and underneath the bed. Nobody. The bedroom was as quiet as if covered in the softest of new fallen snow. Yet, she couldn’t quite shake the voice that had been so clear. She needed to check on Nova.

              The door to Nova’s bedroom was open slightly, just the way she’d left it, and inside the nightlight at the bottom of the wall made the room glow in a warm radiance. Nova was sound asleep in her crib as she tiptoed over and looked down on her sleeping baby. She blew her a kiss and turned to walk back out the door when she noticed one of the three ultrasound pictures on the wall slightly out of place, hanging crooked, on its way to fall to the floor. In silence she walked over and caressed one of the black and white photos before she hanged it straight and made her way back to the warmth of Jefferson’s body still sound asleep among the covers.

              The size and strength of his arms made her melt into his body as his arm wrapped itself around her once more. For just a few minutes she laid there, quietly, listening to the noises of the house. It was quiet. Not a single creek of wood from the old floors and no shuffling. When Jefferson turned around in the bed to face her, and pulled her head into his chest, every trace of unsettlement vanished and the warmth of him took over. Until, something, as light as a feather’s faint touch brushed the sole of her foot and woke her up.

              “Did you feel that?” She whispered into the warm chest of Jefferson.

              “Hmm?”

              “Did something tickle your foot?”

              “No. Go back to sleep.”

              “Something touched my foot.”

              “Might have been me, I have a habit of moving my toes around when I’m dreaming. Go back to sleep.” He wrapped her tighter against him, and fumbled to kiss her in the dark, in his tiredness. “Didn’t you just come back to bed?”

              “Yes, I thought I heard something.”

              “The house is locked, the barn is locked. I’m here. We can sleep.”

              “I’m just going to turn on the light in the bathroom, and have the door slightly opened just in case.”

              “Fine.” He mumbled, half asleep and released her. “Just hurry back, I need to hug something soft and the pillow won’t work.”

              “Don’t call me soft.” She hissed and slapped him with a tease on his arm before she went over to turn on the light in the bathroom. Everything looked so eerie and suspicious in the dark. Even here in the closeness of Jefferson it felt like something was still watching her, eyes in the dark that she couldn’t see. She’d looked everywhere, and there would be no reason to search again. She still heard him mumble out there,

              “You’re warm and soft, like a sweet marshmallow. Nice tits. Nice ass.”

              She shook her head and smiled before she left the bathroom bathing in light, letting just enough light shine through the narrow opening beneath the door when she shut it. Perhaps her lipsticks had been out of place, and her hairbrush not quite on the corner where she’d left it, but knowing her severe lack of sleep, she couldn’t separate one small detail from another. Nor did she notice the small words in the bottom corner of the mirror when she left,
‘what is yours is mine.’

Chapter Eighteen

              The weeks following his mother’s breakdown had surprisingly been the smoothest ones their relationship had ever experienced, and the weeks quickly ran into a month, and the harsh coldness of midwinter was upon them. Jefferson had made it clear ‘not to drive in the snow unless she desperately needed to,’ and, ‘if she needed something from town to rather call him than drive the distance herself, in her old car, risking Nova’s life on the slippery roads.’ These weren’t the sometimes slippery streets of New York, where one might tumble and fall when wearing heels too high. These roads were treacherous. They would fool you with their open clean surface, inviting you to drive on them slowly, than slam you with a long patch of sudden black ice, or throw you off a slight curve and into the ditches. This far out of town, nature laid down the law, and set the cruel punishment for those who didn’t listen.

              Sometimes winter brought power shut-offs, as branches, too heavy with snow, fell across the electrical wires high in the air. Jefferson had called in his old high school buddy Wayne from the small local fire department to make sure the electricity connecting Raylyn’s house to the main grid was fixed in time for another cold front, soon rolling in over the hills in the north, with blistering winds and another round of snow. He’d even offered them to stay with him in town, to spare them another power failure, but Raylyn had told him they’d be fine as long as they had the open fireplace going and a cell phone that worked. He’d helped them stock up at Harold’s the other day, and driven the larger haul on the bed of his truck back to her house.

              The cold midwinter turned into a joyous Christmas, giving Jefferson a few days off from work. Days he preferred spending with Raylyn and Nova, rather than his mom.

              She scolded him for that, and demanded he’d go back home, but he had held his ground and instead melted her heart when he told her ‘he hadn’t been feeling this happy in over a decade, and that his mother wouldn’t truly know he was there with her on Christmas Eve, or if it was Christmas day.’ He stayed. For days.

*              *              *

              The hot coffee nicely warmed up the ceramic cups she carried until she put them down on the living room table, watching as Jeff’s hands notoriously strung strand after strand of lights around the Christmas tree he’d been so adamant on getting her for the holidays. Having a truck and knowing where the best trees in town could be found were two good reason to not avoid the hassle of getting one, and he’d put down his foot when it came to bringing home the holiday cheer to her and Nova.