Romeo is Homeless (17 page)

August gazed at him, his lanky frame bent over the small patch of foliage carefully picking purple blooms. “No. Reese is wonderful. He’s got such a kind heart – despite what people have done to him. He’s a real gentleman, too.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess he is. Never really thought about it before.” Amber leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her long legs. “I’ve never seen him so happy, so that’s something. You know, those violets grow there every year, but he’s never even noticed them before.”

August looked sideways at her. “But you notice them?”

“Sure. They’re pretty. A little bit of color in this drab and sad hell hole. But he doesn’t usually see the beauty. Don’t know if it was being addicted or what.”

“You don’t do that?”

“You mean drugs? Nah. Worst I’ve ever tried is some weed. A bit of a control freak I guess. I hate the idea of waking up somewhere and not knowing how I got there or why. Or what anyone had done to me while I was out of it. I’ve never told these guys this, but in school? I got straight As. Drugs would have brought down my average. Don’t get me wrong, I was a mean girl. But a damn smart one.”

“You don’t seem so mean to me.”

“There’s nobody I need to impress anymore. Out here you just focus on surviving, living day to day. Looking for something – anything – to hold onto. The kids that are mean just don’t know how to be any other way. Don’t know how to be happy, or nice.” Amber lit another cigarette. “Those boys, Ricki and Tanya, they’re the best family I ever had. I see no reason to be mean to them.”

Family. That’s what Reese had called them. And she was starting to feel like part of it. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure. Why not?”

She looked sideways at Amber, heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m in love with him.” She bit her bottom lip and smiled. A tremor ran through her at the sound of those words spoken out loud.

Amber grinned. “Honey, that is no secret. Maybe it’s good that you stay. If you went home it would probably kill him.”

“For you, my dears.” Reese stood before them holding out a small violet bouquet in each hand.

Amber took the flowers from him. “Why, thank you, kind sir. Where’s Guy?”

Reese jerked his head toward the river path just as Guy came toward them zipping his fly.

August giggled. “Classy.”

For the rest of the day they hung out by the bridge, eating the food left from the day before, throwing the football and just being together. Like normal kids.

At dusk, Amber and Guy prepared to leave, to go wherever it was they went at night. Guy pulled Amber up from the ground and put his arm around her neck in a fake choke-hold. Amber tickled his stomach and broke free.

Were they together, a couple, maybe in love? Like she and Reese were?

Guy held up his fingers in a ‘V.’ “Peace out, Reese-man!” He turned to August and flashed a genuine smile. “You too, doll face.”

*****

The sun sank fast behind the city skyline. August and Reese lay facing each other, fully clothed, their legs entwined.

He leaned in and kissed her neck, nibbled on an earlobe, and then licked her from chin to cheekbone with his entire tongue like her dog, Jack, did after a good belly rub.

It seemed odd to laugh while they were being intimate, but she couldn’t hold it back. At least his breath was minty from brushing, not rotten from gnawing on petrified cow pies.

“I got you something.” He dug into his pocket and held out his closed fist. He turned it over and opened it. The ring she had tried on in the mall rested in his palm.

She gasped and sat up. “You bought that for me? But how? You don’t have enough money. You can’t spend what you earn doing – you know – on me. Reese, I don’t need it. I don’t need anything.”

He pushed himself up and sat cross legged. “I didn’t buy it. I just. I just got it. You loved it so much, you should have it.”

She stared at the ring, then at him. “You stole it?”

His eyes darkened and he dropped his chin to his chest, his bangs hiding his face. “Yeah,” he said, mumbling into his hair. “I just wanted you to have it.”

She put a hand under his chin and lifted his face, then leaned forward and kissed him. She looked in his eyes. “Thank you. I love it.”

A slow smile brought the glint back to his eyes. He took the ring from her hand and placed it on her left ring finger. Then he eased her onto her back.

He rolled on top of her and she got lost in his kisses. He took her hands and pushed them above her head, pinning her beneath him, the entire length of her body blanketed by his weight like a protective shield. She was safe here. Safe with him.

He licked her lips, then darted his tongue in and out of her mouth before diving in for an extended exploration of every crevice, running his tongue inside her cheeks and along the back of her teeth. The urgency of the morning was gone. They had time to discover each other, time to explore. All the time in the world.

She brought up her legs and encircled his waist then ground her jeans into his. He groaned and hardened against her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. That she could give him such pleasure made her confident and bold, empowered her in a way she was unaccustomed to. She let go of his hands and pushed him back until he was sitting on his heels, then kneeled in front of him and pulled off his shirt.

In the dim light cast from the docks, the many scars that marred his chest and abdomen were evident. More than a dozen round spots like the burns on his neck were grouped around his ribs. A few white marks like the ones on his arm slashed across his chest and stomach.

She grazed a scar with one finger. Her heart ached for him. The torture he’d suffered, some of it at his own hands, was impossible to fathom. She looked into his eyes and then bent to kiss each mark. She would prove to him that the scars didn’t bother her, that she wanted him – no matter what. She ran her tongue along the longest scar that ran diagonally across his left shoulder then kissed his chest, working her way up to his neck.

She sucked on his Adam’s apple sending it jumping up and down as he swallowed repeatedly. The salt of his skin and scruff of whiskers on his neck sent a shudder through her. She nuzzled her nose into the valley at his collarbone, drinking in the smell of him before licking under his chin and then rising up to meet his face.

She undid the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper, tooth by tooth. Her hammering heart tightened her chest and she took a deep breath. Then she sat in front of him and went to reach into his pants.

He grabbed her arm with one hand and pulled her up. “No. Don’t.”

“But. But
I
”

“I don’t need that. I don’t want you down there.”

He pulled her shirt over her head, reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it aside. They kissed while they held each other, the touch of his skin on hers sending jolts of energy through her like tiny cattle prods.

He laid her down and undid her jeans, tugging them off when she lifted her butt from the ground. Starting at one ankle, his lips feathered up her leg. When he reached the top, he dipped his tongue inside her quickly three times and then once, long and slow.

Her breath caught in her throat and she let out a soft moan. Heat spread through her limbs.

He kissed her stomach, circling her navel with his tongue before nibbling on her ribs, summoning fresh throaty laughter from deep in her belly. He inched up to her chest and spent a breathtaking eternity exploring every curve, licking her skin and suckling her nipples until they hardened in his mouth.

The wet heat of his tongue on her naked body sent shockwaves through her. She didn’t want him to ever stop.

He propped up on one elbow and licked her breast with his whole tongue, then blew on her wet nipple. Her skin turned cold and goose bumps blossomed on her chest. She laughed and stared into his eyes, then ran her hand over his hair.

He dug into his jeans pocket and pulled something out, then slid his pants down and kicked them off. He opened a condom wrapper.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Guy had it.”

“Just one?” She smiled at him.

He grinned and rolled the condom on. “Nope. Three.” He lay on top of her and kissed her, then slid inside.

She studied his face, the intensity of his gaze. With her hands behind his neck she pulled herself up to kiss him while their bodies undulated in perfect rhythm.

It didn’t matter that the sex hurt, didn’t matter that she was sore everywhere. She wanted more contact, craved the feel of his skin on hers. She would accept every kiss, every touch, everything he offered. She was addicted.

An hour later and finally spent, they cuddled under the blanket, she on her side, him curled into her back.

“We should get dressed before we fall asleep,” he whispered into her hair.

“Can’t we just stay like this?”

“Nah, somebody might come by.”

“Has anyone ever come by while you slept?”

“I don’t know. I was sleeping.”

She laughed, and he chuckled into her hair, his breath hot and moist on her skin. A pang of arousal sliced through her.

He pushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, reaching around to caress her breasts and abdomen. Then he slid his hand between her thighs.

“God, August. I can’t get enough of you.” He nimbly flipped her onto her back and moved down her body to explore her most private parts. He lingered there, licking and probing every bit of her, from the outside in, to the deepest areas his tongue could reach.

Her breath came quick and shallow. She bent her head back. “Jesus Christ,” she said under her breath.

She couldn’t get enough of him either, her insatiable appetite for his touch was never quenched. She released her mind and body into the new sensations, surrendering fully to the simple joys of soft and wet and hot.

Sucking her tenderly, he slid his fingers inside and stroked, gaining in speed and intensity.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, pressure pounded in her head like a freight train running right through her skull. She grabbed his head, entwined his hair in her fingers. Guttural groans escaped her lips. Her body contracted and convulsed, until one final release sent her hips bucking in the air.

He slid up her body and kissed her, her musky saltiness mingling with the minty slipperiness of his tongue on hers. He sucked on her bottom lip and then kissed her chin.

“What…” She gulped, her voice raspy. “Was that?”

“That, you sexy, sexy girl.” He bit her gently along her collarbone. “Was an orgasm.”

“We’re gonna hafta do that…” she put her hands on either side of his head and lifted his face so he would look her in the eye
,
“again.”

He grinned, flashed his eyebrows up and down and slid down her body to oblige.

Time ceased to matter. Nothing existed but the two of them. No other people, no other sounds, no thoughts, no intrusions into the world they had created between them. Not tonight.

My darling August,

I’m not a perfect person. I doubt you would argue with that.

I’ve kept a secret from you your whole life. Your father and I both have. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but I think you are ready to know the truth. Or at least, I’m ready for you to know it.

You are the reason my parents agreed to start speaking to me and your father again. Your father and I lived together “in sin,” as my mother called it. That was part of their problem, the sinning. That, and the fact your father was so much older than me. Only four years, but to them it was an eternity. And they agonized over my lost religion. I told my mother I didn’t lose my religion, I just changed teams. Same coach, different squad kind of thing. That didn’t help.

Then I got pregnant. With you. We celebrate our anniversary on the day we got married, but we got married after you were born. We add one year when we tell which anniversary it is. So this fall? It is not our eighteenth anniversary. It’s our seventeenth. We married six weeks after you were born in a quiet ceremony, just me and your father and all of your grandparents. And you. I wouldn’t change a thing.

We’ve lied for the sake of the families, to save them from some presumed shame that would be brought upon them because a child was born out of wedlock. But really, how can the birth of any child be shameful?

I hope you can forgive me. For not being honest. For not seeing you. For slapping you. For everything.

Love, Mom

Caraleen tucked the letter under August’s pillow. She scanned her daughter’s room and dragged a finger along the dresser, making a trail in the dust. She’d have to give it a good cleaning before August came home. She would do that tomorrow.

Reese lay behind August, her naked body curled into his. Her sleeping breath was deep and easy. Magical. He should wake her up. They needed to put their clothes on – but he couldn’t break the spell of their embrace. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, the sweet scent of her sweat filled his senses. The soft skin of her back, her legs, her ass, warmed him, fed him, aroused his body, his mind. His heart.

If he weren’t so exhausted, he’d wake her for sure. Not to fuck. He couldn’t even debase it by calling it sex. It was like no contact he’d ever known before, physical or otherwise. He didn’t know what to call it. Could it be love? He had no idea what that felt like, no context. He was floating on some fantastic cloud, seeing things for the first time that were right in front of his eyes all along, things he was too blinded by emptiness to notice. She was a fairy tale princess and when she kissed him, he morphed into her Prince Charming.

But tomorrow, he’d wake up a frog like every other damn day. She’d figure out soon enough there were better guys for her. She’d leave him. Just a matter of time.

August shifted in her sleep and pushed back against him, soft, hypnotic moans slipping from her lips.

Satisfaction rippled through him. The sanctuary he’d found when he held her hand now existed within her whole body, her whole self. He wrapped his legs around hers and tightened his grip.

This was the most perfect day of his life. He never wanted it to end. She was an ocean of sweet peace and he was drowning in her. It was better than his first high, and he wasn’t coming down from it.