Hanging on (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2) (14 page)

I quaked and peaked, then started the build again. Each peak higher than the last. Time and space did not exist. I would not have blinked if I found we were suddenly floating through the bedroom air, or in a different location altogether. He continued his recital of his worship of me, me proving to be as much a god to him as he was Apollo to me. His thrusting was a little faster now. He iron glad self-control starting to slip in the emotions of the night.

I had paired my emotions for him with our love making since we first began, but this was a different level. A deeper level. It went to the core of me. I was opening myself in ways I didn’t know I could, inviting him inside in a way that I could never take back, realizing that I would never want to. Our bodies moved in sync with each other, his thrusting coming faster, harder, his breath labored, my moans of delight louder.

He bit my neck then kissed me hard. I grabbed at him with all my strength, arching and pulling. I pushed him on with my words, I met his thrust for thrust, twisting my legs around him and begging for more. I pulled him into me, crashing against his body, then feeling his withdrawal only to pull him back in.

We were panting when climax took us, rocketing us away from reality. We held onto each other as if the world was being torn apart, us knowing where ever we would be sucked and spun, it would be together. His final cry was that he loved me, that phrase over simplifying the feeling, but cementing itself into our every fiber.

We lay in each other’s arms, him stroking my hair, breathing deeply. I wanted to admit my love as well, but not as an afterthought. Not as a come-down. I wanted to do it in my own way. Without him stealing my thunder. Or me stealing his.

Oh God, where am I?

I looked around frantically before I saw my lotion bottle on the dresser. The disorientation from waking up started to recede, helping me recognize William’s room in the ranch house. I hadn’t been here in over a month, and then only the one time. We’d been sleeping in his elegantly furnished house in the city. A place I now knew well.

The bold sunlight shot through the thin fabric of the curtains and baked my eyes. Shielding my face with my arm, I allowed my eyes to flutter and my consciousness to come fully awake. The red numbers on the alarm clock said 9:03. It was my usual time to get up on a weekend, if I hadn’t been drinking the night before, but my body hurt. And my pride hurt. I could have slept for half the day, shutting out the uncomfortable world I found myself.

But my safety blanket was gone. Which had me sitting up and groggily, blinking around the room.

A soft chiming sounded next to me. The dog from last night stood, its stump of a tail wagging as it stared at me with what I imagined a hostile gaze.

“Hi girl. Or boy.” Further analysis proved it was a boy. “You waiting for me, or did you sleep in, too?”

He didn’t respond.

“It seems you’ve learned Denise’s stare down.”

Standing out of bed, in the buff, I noticed my dress had been removed.

“Good,” I said to myself. Then realized that it was weird to talk to oneself when another being was in the room. I turned to the dog. “I hope they burned it.”

He wagged his tail. It was a better class of answer than silence, at any rate.

I snagged a pair of William’s boxer-briefs and a t-shirt, both of which were loose, but smelled deliciously like his fabric softener. I sighed like a love-sick ninny as I turned toward the door.

The dog nearly knocked me over as it sprinted out in front of me, then clattered around the Mexican tile of the hallway.

“Geez. Graceful my butt.”

I smelt cooking, though no bacon.
Beggars can’t be choosers
.

As I wandered into the kitchen, ready to pinch my Romeo on the butt, I stopped dead when I saw Denise at the stove, oven mitt on her hand, apron on her chest. William was at the center island with a paper and a glass of orange juice.

I quickly about-faced, not ready to meet this women, who still didn’t like me no matter what she said. I didn't want her seeing me in William’s freaking underwear!

Before I could get away, I heard: “Jess. Where ya headed?”

Freezing mid-stride, I about-faced again, though slower this time. “Oh, well, um…I was going to look for something more…suitable… to wear.”

He looked me over.
Man
he looked so good right now. The sunlight in the room was reflecting in his brilliant blue eyes filled to the brim with love. His strong forearms braced against the counter, body completely relaxed and in his element. He was well-built and powerful met with grace and refinement. He could sit on a stool in an old T-shirt and pajama bottoms, like he was right at the moment, and still exude such manly confidence that I wasn’t sure I could keep my hands off. How the hell did I land this man? And how could anyone possibly love this much?

“You look fine. It’s only us,” he said, a smile tickling those lush lips.

I tried to use facial sign language to fervently explain that his mother did
not
count as an “us,”
thank you very little,
but you could only get so far with snarls and widening eyes.

He smiled, shook his head, and looked adorably confused. “C’mon. My mom is making her famous Eggs Benedict. Do you want some OJ?”

“Yes please.” Resigned, I walked over in his
boxers
and sat down on the stool next to him at the island. Then, remembering my manners, even though I was a
titch
embarrassed, I said, “Hello Mrs. Davies. Nice to see you again.”

Denise turned around, and for the first time ever in my acquaintance, had a warm smile. It didn’t take long for her face to cloud over, though, as her eyes flickered around my face and neck—she must be checking out the latest batch of bruises.

When her eyes flicked to my upper arms, her brow furrowed. She looked back into my face.

Yeah, it was his shirt, what choice did I have?

“Those hand prints look too big to match…” Denise’s accusing cobra stare pounded her son.

In confusion I looked to my arms, remembered, then shrugged. I’d forgotten about our breakdown.

He noticed the exchange and followed her gaze. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Did I do that?” he asked in horrified shock.

You could just make out where his fingers had squeezed, but not much else. They were faint and not worth notice. Not in the face of the other bruises, which I didn't want to think about until Dr. George had me in his chair.

“Yeah.” I shrugged again. “Not a big deal.”

“Jessica!” William gently ran his fingers over my upper arm, “It
is
a big deal! My God, why didn’t you say something?

I nearly laughed—why didn’t
I
say something? Such a man response. Why was he squeezing in the first place? But I knew why, and I didn’t think he would realize it was a joke, so I shrugged again and said instead, “Didn’t seem important. There were… other things to discuss.”

“Jessica, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you!” He looked like a beat puppy. He stroked my cheek with his fingers.

“No worries.” I shrugged for the millionth time. Denise was still pointedly looking at William. He caught the look.

“Mom, I’m serious. I didn’t know I was hurting her!”

“You need to be more careful,” Denise said in a firm tone. It was like she was talking to two children. I didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

“The story isn’t in the papers, so that is good,” Denise said after we’d sat down at the table to quietly ate our breakfast.

I tried to keep my mind from calling up flashbacks. William put a hand on my leg.

“Dusty lived,” she continued. “He was put in intensive care overnight. But he lived. As soon as he is able he’s going straight to prison. Scotty is ready to counter sue if Dusty’s father looks like he is going to press charges. Right now it looks like the father’s placing blame the group his son hangs out with, but you never know. It is a painful road for a parent to travel—placing blame on a child. The good news is that the police have enough evidence to rule this as self-defense.”

“Good.” William sighed, squeezing my leg gently again.

There was a knock at the door followed by William’s bellow to come in. The dog took off to investigate.

I felt it my job to elbow William for blowing out my ear, even though Denise didn’t seem to mind. He, again, looked at me confusedly. We’d have to take up sign language.

In stepped Adam, who wasted no time checking out my various battle wounds. He crossed the room in a few long strides and ripped me out of my chair and into a tight embrace. It was fine, except that he could have smelt better.

“Damn it, Jessica. How do you keep getting’ inta trouble?” he asked with a growl.

“Ow,” I responded meekly.

He put me down and shook his head. “Damn glad to see you made it out. Someone should’a told us that fucker was out of jail!”

“ADAM!
Lang
uage!” Dense yelled.

“Oh.” Adam's face turned red. “Sorry ma’am.”

“It is like a bunch of sailors in this house!” Denise said, standing. “You want breakfast, Adam?”

“Yes ma’am, if it suits.”

“Now, that’s better. That’s language your mother would be proud of.”

After I’d showered and climbed into some clothes William had nicked from my house, the sneak, I thanked Denise for the breakfast and scurried toward the hallway.

“Jessica—“
Almost made it!

With a big sigh I turned back to Adam, who apparently thought my discomfort was hilarious, judging by the irritating smirk on his face. “Been meanin’ to tell ya. I’ve got a car you can borrow. I never use the thing so it’s no trouble if you wanna use it.”

“Adam, that is really great. Probably too much, though. I’ll get my stuff figured out soon.”

His eyes brows furrowed dangerously. “Stop bein’ stubborn. I don’t use it. Borrow it. Get your own’un. Give it back.”

“Yiks, okay. Thanks.”

“It’s nuthin.”

We walked into Adam’s spacious, three car garage later that day. It was attached to a moderate-sized ranch house. It wasn’t as nice as the one on William’s ranch, nor as big, but apparently Adam didn’t stay out here much, so he didn’t bother with improvements. He, like William, had a place closer to the city.

Must be freaking nice having two houses and a bunch of cars to put in them. No wonder William couldn’t understand why buying a car was a big deal. Jerk.

The light from the open garage door splashed down on a beat-up old mustang in need of desperate repair. It looked like the paint was once orange, but rust had taken over. I tried to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head for Adam’s sake, but no offense, I would rather take the bus.

William and Adam started laughing.

“Not that one you dolt!” Adam turned to William, “Didcha see the look on her face? She about threw up her breakfast!”

Indignantly, I watched as Adam walked across the garage, passing a sweet, though slightly older, Mercedes, before he stopped in front of a mid-sized car with a cover on it. He pointed. Being that the light was on one side of the big garage, and he was on the other, and also that the car had a cover, I wasn’t sure what reaction to offer. Frankly, I was worried it would look like the rusty death trap I was standing in front of.

“Oh right,” Adam said as he noticed, apparently for the first time, that the car was incognito. He ripped off the cover and pointed again. “It’ll do ya, I reckon. It works. About five years old, but I ain’t had no problems with it. Hell, I hardly ever drove the thing before I parked it. Prefer the truck.”

This time Adam had got it right! It was a BMW in great condition!

“Adam, I can’t drive
this!”
I protested.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” He turned and surveyed the car, hands on hips.

“It’s an expensive car, Adam.”

He waved my comment away. “It ain’t that expensive. Use it. No one else is gonna. It aught’ta get some drivin’ time.”

“You don’t take your truck on dates, though.”

He looked taken aback. “Uh...no. Well, I haven’t actually gone on any dates as of recently, and I have the Merc for that.” He cleared his throat.

William chuckled. “Our Adam is hard to please. I took the only good woman.”

Adam blushed.

William smiled wickedly. “Jessica, just say thank you and try not to wreck it.”

Later, when we were laying in my bed in the buff, I asked William what that exchange was all about.

He said, “I thought I told you... Adam wanted to make a play for you.”

“But I thought you said everyone knew you wanted me, and your friends just left it at that.”

He laughed. “Men aren’t that noble, I’m afraid. In the beginning, yes, I basically called dibs. I did see you first and made contact possible. But I was desperately trying not to get involved, as I told you, so Adam wanted to take a crack at you. Lucky for me you didn’t come around after Froggy’s.”

“It was after the dance off?”

“Yup. If I was going to make a play for you—this was the guys’ logic, not mine—it should have been then. Obvious reasons.”

“Obvious, as in, I was throwing myself at you?”

He laughed again and mussed my hair. “Something like that, yeah. That guy Brad wanted to dump his girlfriend and make a play, too.”

Without thinking I said, “He was cute.” Then I winced
.

William gave me an incredulous look. “What?”

“
Well
! You were untouchable! That’s what everyone said. ‘Stay away from Davies’ was all I heard. So... Brad is cute and seemed interested. Which made me interested. Until I found out he had a girlfriend.”

“Interesting. And what if Adam did make a play for you? Is he cute?”

“Adam is striking, yeah.” I could see William’s face go blank, hiding his wariness. Apparently he didn’t care if I thought Brad was cute, but Adam was another story.