Road Tripping (23 page)

“You’ll…you’ll
work on it?” The world was spinning around her even faster than before.

“Of course, I
will. Did you think I care so much about being a pushy asshole that I wouldn’t
try to change, even if it meant losing you?” He frowned at her, almost
indignantly.

She could
barely take in a full breath. “I don’t think you’re an asshole. I didn’t mean
to make it sound that way. I know I have some annoying qualities too.”

“So you can
work on some things too. We both can. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? I
do trust you. I think I’ve always been in love with you. I can’t imagine my life
without you. You’re…you’re everything to me. Please say you trust me too.”

Ashley literally
started to choke. Thought she might pass out. “Oh, God,” she moaned, moving a
hand to her stomach to try to hold back some of the raw emotion that was
threatening to spill out. “Oh, God.”

“What is it?” Ethan
asked urgently, his face transforming in an instant. “Are you going to be sick
again?”

She shook her
head. “I don’t think so. But I might just die from too much…happiness.” She was
still holding her glass of lemonade, but she felt it start to slip from her
hand. Ethan stepped over and took it from her, setting both glasses on the
dirt.

“We’re okay
then,” Ashley whispered, shocked elation in her voice.

“We are?” He
spoke slowly, as if he were too scared to let himself believe it.

“Yeah. If we’re
both willing to work on things. Oh, Ethan, I love you so much.” She wanted to
go over and embrace him and feel his arms around her, but she wasn’t sure if
her trembling legs could take her there.

He came to her
instead, pulling her to him, taking her in his arms. “God, Ashley, don’t ever
do that to me again.”

“I won’t,” she
promised, sliding her hands up his damp chest to link them around his neck.
“Can you please kiss me now?”

“I’m all
sweaty, and you’re wearing that pretty dress.”

She giggled at
hearing Ethan talk about her prairie-dress that way. “This pretty dress is
already sweaty from just hugging you. So we might as well go all the way.”

“All the way?” Ethan
asked huskily, lowering his face toward her.

“Maybe not all
the way. At least, not in front of Mrs. Tate. She had a lot to say about
relations between unmarried persons. She’d have a heart attack if we made love
in her front yard. How about just a kiss for now?”

So Ethan kissed
her, and it was deep, warm, and tender—and just a touch too arousing for Ashley’s
comfort. She felt her body wiggling against him, felt a familiar ache between
her legs.

When their lips
finally parted, Ethan didn’t let her go. He dropped little kisses on her
forehead, her temple, along her hairline. Ashley felt him hardening against her
middle. “Do you think Mrs. Tate would let us take a little walk in private?” he
inquired softly, his voice at her ear.

“I think we’d
better ask her.”

Before they
could go through with this plan, a voice called out from the front porch.
“Yoo-hoo! I’m so glad you kissed and made up. But I think that’s enough kissing
for you two. Come and help me make dinner, Ashley. You both clearly need a
chaperone.”

They both
groaned softly, but Ethan released her. “Are you coming in?” she asked him.

He shook his
head. “I think I better work on the fence some more. I have a lot of
frustration to work off right now.”

“Me too,” she
replied mournfully. “But I guess I’ll have to work it off by peeling potatoes.”

***

On the dinner table, Mrs. Tate
had set a small bud vase, holding a couple of stems of Queen Anne’s Lace, each
with a deep red heart. She moved the vase to the living room afterwards, as the
three of them settled in for the evening.

The Tates
didn’t own a television, so she played the piano for a while, then suggested
that Ethan read aloud from a book. The book she chose was
Little Women.

Ethan had
seated himself on the loveseat, and Mrs. Tate urged Ashley to go and sit next
to him. So Ashley had quite an evening—cuddled up on an old-fashioned loveseat
with Ethan, while he read aloud about the trials and joys of Meg, Jo, Beth, and
Amy March. All the while, a sweet, old lady beamed at them proudly.

Mrs. Tate cried
and laughed at all of the appropriate places. Ashley tried to pay attention,
but was very distracted by the warmth of Ethan’s body and delicious vibrations
of his voice.

After a couple
of hours of this, Mrs. Tate was ready for bed, and Ashley was ready for
something entirely different.

But Ethan and Ashley
dutifully got ready for bed at nine o’clock, which was evidently Mrs. Tate’s
customary bedtime. “Now, you get a good night’s sleep, my dear,” Mrs. Tate said
kindly to her. “There’s a nightlight in here. I have them in all the rooms. I
just don’t like the dark. But you can turn it off if it bothers you.”

“It will be
fine,” Ashley said, smiling at her gratefully. “Thank you so much for all that
you’ve done for us.”

“My pleasure,
dear, my pleasure. And I’ve laid out a nightgown for you to wear. Now, you say
goodnight to your young man, and then I’ll make sure the house is all shut down
for the night.”

And the message
in that was very clear. So Ethan and Ashley said a very brief goodnight,
complete with a chaste peck on the lips. Then they went into their separate
rooms and closed the doors.

Ashley changed
into the nightgown and got into the high, twin bed. Covered herself up with the
hand embroidered sheets and homemade quilt. Then lay in the semi-darkness,
listening as Mrs. Tate locked the doors, puttered around, and then went into
her own bedroom, closing the door loudly behind her.

Then Ashley lay
awake for an hour, feeling restless and aroused, but not quite having it in her
to just take care of herself with her hand. It simply felt too dirty to do such
a thing with Mrs. Tate three rooms away.

Just when she
was starting to feel desperate enough to try anything, she heard her door open
softly and saw a figure step into the room. A very familiar, attractive figure.

Ethan took a
few steps in and looked down at Ashley in the bed, an obvious question on his
face.

She didn’t say
anything, just folded back the bedcovers for him and stretched out her arms to
welcome him in.

He silently
lowered himself into the small bed beside her, taking her immediately in his
arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t stay away. I know it seems
disrespectful after everything Mrs. Tate has done for us, but I had to be with
you tonight. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“Shh. I need
you tonight. We’ll just have to be very, very quiet.”

Ethan kissed
her deeply and so passionately that Ashley was shaking when he finally pulled
away. “You’re the one who likes to yell and scream,” he drawled, his voice
barely a breath. “Do you think you can be quiet enough?”

“Don’t be smug,”
she murmured. “Now let me see your pajamas.”

Mrs. Tate had,
of course, very kindly provided Ethan with a pair of Mr. Tate’s old plaid,
cotton pajamas. Ethan was only wearing the pants. “I wasn’t intending to sleep
in them, but it just seemed to wrong to walk around someone else’s house
naked.”

Ashley peeked
under the sheet, glad of the nightlight that allowed her to see Ethan in all
his plaid-pajama glory. She also noticed something else while she was under
there.

“How long have
you been hard?” she asked quietly, stroking him through the pajamas with her
hand.

He sucked in
his breath sharply as she touched him. “For way too long. What about you? Are
you ready?”

She slid her
hand from his crotch up his belly and then to his chest. “Feel for yourself.”

His warm
fingers found her right leg, trailed up her thigh, and explored the warm space
between her legs. She gasped in pleasure as one finger slipped inside her,
spilling the wet proof of her arousal.

Ethan kissed
her again, as his hand continued to fondle her. “Good,” he whispered. “Tonight,
it’s quick and quiet. I’m a little embarrassed as it is, knowing Mrs. Tate is
snoring three doors down.”

He pulled off
his pajama pants and unwrapped the condom he had brought with him. They’d found
an unopened package in the sex-mobile, since the sleazy owner evidently had
high hopes but little action. Ashley took off her white, cotton nightgown while
Ethan rolled the condom on.

When he was
finished, he started to position himself between her legs.

“Ethan?” she
began.

He mumbled an
inquisitive response over the nipple he was sucking.

Ashley arched
her back into his mouth when he started flicking the sensitive flesh with his
tongue. “Would it be all right if I was on top tonight?”

Ethan lifted
his head from her breast, moved until his face was hovering over hers. “Honey,
you don’t even have to ask.” After a pause, he added, “I’m so sorry I made you
think I’d never budge on the controlling.”

She kissed him
for that. And then she let him roll them over so she was on top. A little
uncertain about how to begin, she straddled his middle and lifted up, but
hesitated before the final step.

It wasn’t as
easy as it looked. What if she missed? What if she lowered the wrong part of
herself on top of him? What if she actually hurt him?

She poised her
body over his erection, but then hissed, “Help me, Ethan. I’ve never done this
before.”

So Ethan used
his hands to help guide her onto his erection, and Ashley inhaled slowly as her
slick inner muscles clung to Ethan’s hard flesh as she descended.

“Okay?” Ethan
breathed, his eyes shut and head turned away.

It
was
okay. It hurt much less than it had the previous time, although this new
position made her feel even more full and tight. “Good,” she breathed. “It’s
good.”

Ethan too had
made a quicker recovery than he had previously. He turned back to her and
opened his eyes. “You’re amazing, Ashley. Maybe we can be careful about how
much we shake the bed. It’s kind of creaky, and we don’t want to wake up Mrs.
Tate.”

Ashley raised
herself experimentally, then lowered herself again, placing her hands on Ethan’s
chest for leverage. She tried out a few different angles, watching Ethan’s face
carefully as she did so. She was delighted to discover that the angle that made
Ethan gasp in startled pleasure was the same one that sent a burst of rich
sensation through her own body.

She decided she’d
go with that angle.

She had to move
fairly slowly to avoid too much noise from the bed. But soon she felt the
gradual development of an orgasm start to build, and she began to pant very
softly.

Ethan had moved
his hands up to her breasts and was cupping them protectively, keeping them
from slapping against her chest from the motion.

But after a
minute, her mounting climax seemed to have plateaued out, and she couldn’t risk
accelerating her movements. “Feels good,” she sighed. “Really good. But I need
more.”

So he started
thrusting his hips up as she descended. It shook the bed a little more, but the
noise was still barely noticeable. His thrusting changed the experience
entirely, and she felt the pleasure start to grow once more.

“Yeah,” she
groaned, barely audibly. “That’s good. Just like that. Love that, Ethan.” She
continued to ride him steadily, her thighs beginning to feel the strain.

“Love you,” Ethan
grunted, his face tight with what must be an internal struggle to control
himself. “Beautiful. Love how you move. Love to watch you.”

His words
enveloped her like a shelter, like a blanket. Her head fell back, and she
released a low moan. She was almost there. Her body started automatically
preparing itself for the release.

Instinctively,
uncontrollably, her motion became more urgent as she chased after the coming
climax. She started bouncing on top of him more rapidly, chanting a succession
of soft “yeah”s in time with her rhythm.

But the bed
started creaking rhythmically at her intensified momentum, and she knew she had
to slow down, restrain the motion. She almost sobbed with both frustration and
relief when she felt Ethan’s strong hands on her hips. “Honey, it’s too loud,”
he whispered gently. “She’s been so kind to us. We can’t flaunt this in her face.”

Ashley was glad
he had stopped her—she would be mortified if they disappointed and embarrassed
Mrs. Tate—but she slumped limply down on his chest. “Yeah. You’re right. But I
can’t come by going so slowly.”

“Start up
again. Let me try something different.” He stroked her damp cheeks and urged
her back into position.

She started
riding him once again, with the original, slow, steady rhythm. Only this time, Ethan's
hand moved to explore between her legs, very close to where he was pumping in
and out of her body.

And then he
found the right location. Ashley had to stifle a cry of pleasure at the feel of
that pressure on the so sensitive spot. “That might work. Keep doing that.”

So she rode
him, and Ethan thrust into her from below at each descent, while he massaged
her clit with his fingers.

“That’s
working,” she panted. “God, Ethan. So incredible. Love you so much.” She was
almost there. Almost at the edge. Had to make sure she didn’t cry out loudly in
response to the building sensations.

Ethan must be
almost there himself. His own motion had grown more urgent, his body was slick
with perspiration. “Yeah, honey. Love you. Come. Come soon.”

Inhaling
harshly, Ashley raised and lowered herself a few more times. Met Ethan’s
loving, completely vulnerable eyes. Felt his flesh inside her. His touch
intimately. His love everywhere.

And it all
started to crest. Approaching. Right before her. It was...here.