The Closer You Get (24 page)

Rye grinned. “You know, for such a ‘good girl’ you sure do cuss a lot.”

“Comes from hanging out with construction workers. Well, Romeo, what do you want to do?”

“About Adam? Wait him out. He can’t stay this angry forever, can he?”

“Maybe we could put our relationship on hold until he calms down.”

Rye’s heart sank. She couldn’t be serious. “You can’t be serious.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just would hate to get in the way of Cash and Adam.”

“What about Rye and Cora, huh? Why should we be miserable just because a grown man is throwing a temper tantrum—”

“Don’t belittle his feelings like that, Rye. He’s obviously going through something.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m going through something too. I’m falling in love for the first time in three years, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t get to be happy. I’m trying with him, but I shouldn’t have to set my whole life aside just because he’s feeling threatened, or whatever.”

She gazed up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Falling in love?”

He brushed the backs of his knuckles along her jaw. “Don’t pretend you can’t see it for yourself.”

“This is…falling in love?”

“For me, it is. I hope for you, too.”

Her pretty cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and her gaze dropped. Rye trailed his fingertips over her jawline and then brought her head against his chest, kissing her hair and inhaling deeply. He didn’t want her to feel pressured to answer him, so he said, “What for our next date?”

“What else is there?”

“Well, let’s see…we’ve done pizza and a movie. A group date to the fair. I think it’s time to graduate high school and move on to college.” He grinned to himself as an idea formed. “Got it. I’ll have to make some calls and see what’s going on, but plan for Friday night. And dress as skanky as you can possibly get.”

She pulled away and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Indecently short skirt. Some kind of top that barely covers your assets. Fuck-me heels. That sort of thing.”

Her face turned redder as she laughed. “I mean, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He kissed her on the lips and then left the office to do a bit of research.

“H
E
TOLD
ME
to dress skanky,” Cora said to Franny as she assessed her ass in the mirror. The best she’d been able to come up with was a tank top and a denim skirt that went to her knees.

Franny leaned in the doorway of the bathroom with a skeptical eyebrow elegantly arched. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But does this qualify?”

“You look like you’re going to a church picnic.”

Cora sighed. She hadn’t even begun to deal with makeup. It would have helped if he’d told her where they were going.
 

A knock at the door signaled his arrival. He’d said he would pick her up at five, and he was not late. “Crap,” Cora muttered, hurrying to the door.

She swung it open to find him standing there, not very different from how he usually dressed. He had a wife-beater under an open, plaid short-sleeve shirt with some low-slung jeans, a backward ball cap, and dark sunglasses. He whipped the sunglasses off and stopped chewing his gum. “Shit, Cora, this won’t work at all.”
 

He took her by the elbow and hurried her back into her house and down the hall, encountering Franny about halfway. “Tart this girl up, Franny, I got a hot date planned.”

“What are you looking for, hoss?”

“As slutty as you can get. I mean, show me some skin. Make her look like a girl who strips her way through college or something.”

Franny laughed and took Cora by the arm. “Let me see what I can do.”
 

She pulled Cora into her bedroom and started digging around Cora’s underwear drawer. She pulled out a hot pink shelf bra Cora had brought in a fit of overconfidence three years ago. “I’m not wearing—”

Franny tossed it at her. “Put it on and give me your tank top and skirt. I’ll see what I can do about them.”

Cora obeyed, and Franny disappeared out the door. Cora took off her practical bra and put on the one that barely covered her nipples and shoved her breasts up to her chin. Out in the hall, she could hear Franny and Rye talking and laughing about something. When Franny returned, it was with half of Cora’s clothes. Half a tank top and half a skirt.
 

Cora put them on and found herself hunkering down, trying to get the fabric to cover more of her belly and legs. In addition, her bra showed all around the edges of the top of her shirt. “I don’t think I can walk out there like this.”

“Don’t worry,” Franny said, “it’s about to get worse.” She shoved Cora to the edge of the bed. Cora sat and watched Franny dig in her makeup bag. The lipstick she retrieved was way too bright. The eyeshadow too dark. Overall, the makeup was way too much.
 

“Are you sure about this?” Cora asked.

Franny giggled. “He told me where he was taking you. Trust me.”

After the makeup, Franny went to work on Cora’s hair, pulling it up in a couple of stubby, pigtails. Then she gave Cora her shoes, which were the exact kind of high heels Rye had asked her to wear. Cora had to practice walking in them. “My calves are going to be so sore.”

“Oh, you’ll be sore all the way up, trust me. Now go on and greet your guy.”

Franny shoved the makeup into Cora’s purse and then shoved the purse into Cora’s hands. Cora felt four inches taller and incredibly inelegant. She made herself stop hunching over, lifted her chin and strode down the hall, miraculously without twisting an ankle.

Rye grinned wickedly and looked her up and down. “Yes, ma’am, that’s perfect.”

“I packed her towelettes and extra makeup in case you smudge her lipstick before you get there,” Franny said.

“I’m definitely going to smudge her lipstick.” He snaked an arm around her bare midriff. “Thanks, Franny.”

“You kids have a good time.”

Rye helped her into his pickup. He got behind the wheel and instead of starting the engine right away, reached over and buried his lips in her neck, stealing her breath in the process. He grabbed her breast hard and squeezed. Cora gasped. “God, Rye,” she squeaked.

“I can’t take you like this. Do you have any idea what that skirt is doing to me?” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to the front of his pants, to the hard length of him.
 

The way his lips and tongue moved on her neck and his hand moved on her breast, she couldn’t breathe. She stared out the windshield at her house, her vision blurring as her eyes grew wet from the intensity of the moment. “W-where are you taking me?”

“I’ll take you wherever you’ll let me. Wanna go back inside?” His lips moved down to the swells of her breasts, kissing, nipping, teasing.
 

Now she was breathing, but too fast. “Rye,” she whispered. “Maybe we should just stick to your original plan.”

He pulled back. She felt his eyes on her, but she continued to stare out the windshield. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid. I’m just…not ready.”

His hand was suddenly on her thigh, moving up and in, parting her legs. “Your body’s ready, though. You know that, don’t you?”

She could only gasp as his fingers pressed against her panties.
 

“Wet and ready,” he groaned, massaging her. “You’ll let me do this. You let me see you naked. Touch you naked. You touched me, too, remember? Did more than touch.” He was murmuring in her ear, driving her into a blind frenzy of anticipation. “You wrapped your hands around me and made me come hard. Did you know that? Did you know that that was easily the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced? You with your virgin hands giving in to your deepest desires. Fuck, Cora, it was so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

She came with a cry. As it began, she grabbed his arm and arched into his hand, her body convulsing with each wave of pleasure. He massaged her all the way, even as she came down off that incredible high. He was laughing softly into her ear. “You’re so easy, you know that?”

She was trembling, still clinging to his arm. But he withdrew to his side of the truck, licking his fingers as he went. “Mmmm. Next time you come, it’ll be against my tongue.”

Cora gaped at him. He never ceased to shock her, saying such bold, coarse things. She continued to stare, even as he backed out of the driveway and headed down the highway, a smug, half-grin on his lips, his wrist resting atop the steering wheel.
 

“Let me ask you something,” Rye said. “If I weren’t so pushy, would you ever make the first move?”

“Um, honestly, I don’t know.”

“See, I was feeling bad. Like maybe I pushed too far the other night. But I keep reminding myself you’d shut me down if you wanted to. You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop you? Yes.”

“But you didn’t stop me in the shower. Or just now.”

“I guess you didn’t push me further than I was willing to go.”

“But I did push you.”

Cora shrugged.
 

“Do you like it that way? Me taking charge?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I like it. You do what you want, and I’ll say stop when it’s time to stop. Is that okay?”

He grinned. “Perfectly okay. God, I’m gonna have fun with you tonight.”

She laughed, finally relaxing. He drove while resting one hand on her thigh. “Where are we going?”

“Tonight, we are two college kids crashing a frat party.”

Her good humor vanished. “What? Are you joking?”

“Nope. You didn’t have a proper college experience, Cora. I gotta fix that for you. So that’s what we’re doing tonight.”

“I cannot appear in public dressed like this.”

“Trust me, you look downright classy compared to what we’re about to see.”

Cora stared out the windshield, adjusting to the idea of what they were about to do. Slowly, a smile formed on her lips. “You’re crazy.”

“You love it.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”

The frat house might have made a nice home for a family, with its two-story colonial appeal and the wrap-around porch. The drunken college kids and pounding music were definitely a mark against it in terms of real estate value.
 

Rye parked on the street, and Cora waited as he came around to open her door. Her heart pounded in her chest as he took her hand and helped her down. “We cannot pass as college kids,” she said.

“Sure we can,” he said. They strolled down the street toward the house, hand-in-hand.
 

“College guys are scrawny, Rye. Look at yourself. You’re obviously an adult.”

“You overestimate their level of sobriety. Listen to that noise. The screaming, the cheering, the music. These kids are already hammered. They won’t even notice. Besides, you look about eighteen.”

In spite of herself, she blushed at the compliment.
 

The yard outside the house was dotted with groups of students, drinking and talking loudly. Rye strode confidently, pulling Cora reluctantly behind him. There were a couple guys holding jars of cash out front.

“Dude, wanna pitch in,” one of them said. “Helps us restock for the next party, man.”

Rye dug a bill out of his pocket, which happened to be a hundred, and crammed it into the jar.
 

The two strung-out looking guys gaped at it and then laughed. “Dude!” said the other one. “Where’d you get that much cash?”

“I’m a productive citizen with a job, dude,” Rye said, high-fiving them each as he walked by.

The music blared as they crossed the threshold into the house. “Why’d you give them that much money?” Cora shouted.

“It was all I had on me. Plus I plan on drinking a shit-load of their beer. Come on, babe.” They pushed their way through the bodies churning to the beat of the music. There were colored lights, eclipsed for Cora by all the tall people towering over her. At last, they broke into an open room where people were still dancing but had managed to spread out a little. Rye led her to the bar, filled a plastic cup full of beer from the nearest keg, and handed it to her.
 

She drank, desperate for a buzz because at that moment, the situation was more stressful than fun.

“Hey, can you pour me a drink too?” asked a high-pitched voice.
 

Cora looked over to find a gorgeous blond, dressed even trashier than Cora, and smiling lustfully at Rye. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” Rye said and poured her a cup.
 

“I could use a shot!”
 

Cora turned to another young woman who had been drawn to Rye’s side like a fly to honey. Rye moved behind the bar and found a bottle of tequila. After that, he became the unofficial bartender and Cora found herself being squeezed further and further back from her date by men and women rushing to party with Rye. He seemed to have a knack for directing drinking games and soon he was partying hard just as though he was one of the fraternity brothers.

Cora gawped in amazement and not a little vexation at having been so roundly ditched in what was about as far from her comfort zone as possible.

“Hey, you wanna dance?” asked some guy.
 

“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m here with someone.”

The guy left. Cora backed her way against a wall, trying to keep her sights on Rye, who kept disappearing behind crowds of teen and twenty-something partiers.

“Hey, pretty lady, you wanna grind with me on the dance floor?”

“Huh?” She looked up at an admittedly gorgeous, young man. “No. I’m here with someone.”

“That guy at the bar? Yeah, he’s the one told me about you. Said you were too much woman for him. Said there was enough of you to go around. So what do you say?”

Cora found herself grinning. Ten years ago, had she found herself in the same situation, she’d have likely turned right around and walked away. But she was finally loosening up. No longer afraid of doing the wrong thing. And damn it, a hot guy had asked her to dance, and she just plain wanted to say yes. “All right. Yeah. Sure, let’s dance.”

The beat of the music pounded. Cora didn’t have to do much work as the guy held her plastered to his body and moved her to his own gyrations. The song changed, and someone shoved a drink in her hand. “From that guy at the bar,” the young man said.