by Rona Jameson
Moving back toward the front door, I stop when I see Rafael standing waiting for me. He’s covered up with a black T-shirt now, his hair just as messy as usual. I can’t keep the grin off my face if I tried because I really am happy to see him here. He looks adorable all rumpled and quickly pulled together.
“I saw he wasn’t here, so I took a chance.” He hesitates and then moves forward, taking the hose from my hands. “I’ll help you.”
“Oh, yes.” I laugh. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you here. It’s a nice surprise, though.”
“I know that.” He smirks.
I nudge him with my hip. “I’m a tyrant of a boss. Follow me.” I lead him to the opposite side of the glasshouse and enjoy the view of him watering the plants. The muscles of his back ripple when he moves, and I’m fairly sure he does it all the more because he knows I’m watching him. The slight smirk on his face gives him away. “You know?” I place my hands on my hips and wait to have his full attention. I have to clear my throat when his eyes darken as they leave a trail of heat over my skin. “You watch me just as intently as I watch you.”
His smirk turns into a full grin that lights his eyes. “You admit to watching me intently, huh?”
“Ugh,” I mutter. “Trust you to pick up on that word.”
“I’m a guy, of course I picked up on that word.” He glances at my legs and back to my face. “I can’t help staring at you intently when you’re in those shorts, showing off your legs. I also can’t keep my eyes off you. You fascinate me, Wren Jacobs.”
A blush coats my cheeks, but I find myself frozen in place by his words and the sincerity behind them. “You fascinate me too,” I admit, the blush growing deeper in color. Turning my back, I head into the glasshouse. “We need to water everything in here.” I pick up a small watering can I’d filled yesterday. “I’ll water the strawberries with this, and you water everything else with the hose.” I look over my shoulder. “Then, I’ll show you the stream.”
“Dad said there was a stream.”
“Yes. It’s ten minutes away through the trees at the back.” I nod toward the back of the glasshouse. “I like spending time there on the weekends when the Reverend is at church.”
“Do you swim in it?” Rafael asks, moving closer to me as I reach up to the strawberries in the hanging baskets.
I shake my head. “No. I’m not allowed.” I place the watering can on the floor and turn to face Rafael. “I have dipped my toes in the water a few times, though.”
Rafael steps into me until the tips of our shoes touch. He is taller than me and my eyes meet his collarbone. I am so tempted to ask him to remove his T-shirt so I can see the tattoos up close, but I don’t. With the way he has drawn me, I know the artwork on his body will be just as impressive. I slowly lift my gaze upward and find him looking down at me with a look on his face I can’t decipher. I swallow nervously but don’t step away. I like being close to him. I like the way he makes me feel when he is. He gives me his trust, as I’ve given him mine.
He licks his lips and stares at me before he closes his eyes and takes a small step back. “I think they’ve had enough water for today. Go turn the water off and I’ll help you wind it back up.”
“Hmm.”
He bends and whispers into my ear. “Unless you want to do something else.” Then I feel his teeth nip at my earlobe.
A shiver of pleasure runs through me, and Rafael’s eyes darken. “Water. Off. Now.” Rafael turns and quickly moves with the hose to the side of the house.
I run after him with a quick glance toward the church to make sure the Reverend’s red car is still parked there. It is. “I’ll turn the wheel, if you guide the hose so it doesn’t get twisted.”
“Okay.”
We work in silence for a few minutes as everything is tidied away. I don’t say anything and walk toward the trees at the back of the property. Rafael follows behind me while my heart thumps wildly. If the Reverend finds out about Rafael being here with me there will be a lot of trouble. Associating with boys isn’t allowed, and I’m starting to realize it’s because he wants me for someone of his own choosing.
“You’ve gone tense,” Rafael comments, moving in beside me. “Why?” I wasn’t sure how to answer and, before I can come up with something, he asks, “Is it me?”
“No.” I lead him over the uneven ground toward the water just in the distance. The boulder I always sit on while I contemplate life looks appealing as I take Rafael’s hand and lead him onto it with me.
I move in beside him and sigh feeling at peace. Rafael just being close has started to settle my mind and anxious belly. “Before—” I pause. “I’d been thinking about how you make me feel and how the Reverend would react if he ever found out. I think he’s planning on giving me to Peter Wild.”
“No way is that happening.” Rafael runs both hands through his hair. “You can’t just be given to someone else. It doesn’t work that way.”
A tear slips free. “You don’t know the Reverend and his followers. His word is law around here and people are too afraid to stand up to him.” I meet his eyes and let my tears fall when he cradles my face in his large hands. He makes me feel warm where my soul is used to being cold—so very cold. “Before I met you, my world was mostly silent. No one talked to me. The Reverend only ever issued orders. But you, you’ve made me crave something I hadn’t known I wanted or needed. That’s you, Rafael. I craved having a friend like you.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in against his warm body. “Is that all you want, Wren? A friend?” He whispers the question against the top of my head. “Because I like you a lot more than a friend should like another friend. Until you, my world was full of darkness, and blood. You’ve given me light and I crave that. I crave you.” He kisses my forehead.
He deserves me to be honest no matter how embarrassed I will be. “I like you more than a friend should. My body swells and feels good whenever you’re close or when we touch. I want to continue feeling that way.”
A garbled response that I can’t make out is the only reply he gives me. Then his arm is pulling me closer. I feel his heart thump against my ear until it slowly settles into a steady rhythm.
“It would have been my brother’s birthday today,” he admits quietly. “He should have been turning eleven.”
“Oh, Rafael. I’m so sorry.” I wrap myself around him and hold on while his sorrow overwhelms him. I feel it in the tense way he holds himself, and the way he breathes deeply to keep himself in the moment instead of in the past. “I really wish I knew how to make everything better for you.”
His hand tangles in my hair and he tips my head backwards so that our eyes meet. “The fact that you want to, means everything to me.” He glances at my lips and slowly lowers his head. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, and glides his soft lips across my own. His head lifts and his lips twitch into a smile while his chest is heavy against mine. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.” He kisses the tip of my nose and my breasts ache. “I want to do really naughty things with you that I haven’t done with anyone.”
“Oh! You feel this too?”
He offers a strangled laugh. “Give me your hand.”
I look at him in confusion as I offer him my hand. He inhales deeply and moves my hand to the large bulge behind his zipper. He keeps his hand over mine and urges my fingers around the shape. Rafael hisses. My eyes immediately snap up to his half-lidded ones as I realize I’m squeezing his throbbing penis.
He removes his hand and I leave mine there while I search his gaze. His cheeks have a deep red blush, as I’m sure mine do. I know a man’s penis swells hard and thick when he’s aroused, but this is the first time I have had any experience with one. I’m curious as I squeeze my hand around him and feel his flesh jerk. He breathes deeply and his whole body is tense, so I release him from my grip. It isn’t that I want to let go of him, it’s more about what I need to do.
“Are you okay?” I ask
, trying to ignore my embarrassment.
He swallows hard and nods. “Yeah,” he mutters, stumbling over the words. He coughs and clears his throat. “Remind me not to put your hands on me in that way again.”
“Why?” I’m hurt he doesn’t like my touch.
“Why? Wren.” He groans. “I enjoyed it way too much. I only intended to show you that I react to you as well. I didn’t mean to keep your hand there, but it felt too good the way you wrapped around my dick.”
“I don’t know anything about boys or my own body, but touching you down there felt really good down there on my own body. I liked how it made you feel too.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Can we do it again sometime?”
“God!” He jumps up from the boulder and starts pacing. “My dad will kill me if he knows what we just did.” He pauses. “The Reverend will kill me.”
I follow him down and stand in his way. “They will if you tell them.”
“Wren, we can’t be like that again. We just can’t.”
“You didn’t like how I touched you?” I back away and find myself caught by him.
He has his hands on my hips while he holds me steady. “I loved having your touch on my body. You’re seventeen. Underage. I won’t take advantage of you.”
“But you want to? Take advantage of me, I mean?”
He stares deeply into my eyes and licks his lips before he answers. “Yes. I want to feel your touch on my skin. I’ve dreamed about touching your breasts.” He glances down. “I want to lick the tips of your breasts that poke through you T-shirts, like they’re doing right now.” He closes his eyes and steps away from me, the loss of his touch not nice.
“Oh,” I mumble and follow. “You do like my touch.” I stalk him as he moves around the clearing. “You’re afraid of how you’ll react when I touch you, skin-to-skin, huh?”
He moves quickly. “Stop talking.”
“No. What would you do if I took my top off? I’m naked underneath.” His honest reaction to my touch gives me the courage to be so bold with him. Never in my wildest dream have I thought I would react to a boy the way I do Rafael. I want to be under his skin and to know that I make his body react in the way mine has.
I don’t miss his eyes on my chest before he turns away. I smirk and move even closer and lay my hands on his back. “I saw you on the porch this morning. I noticed the ink that covers your skin, and I especially noticed how low your jeans rode on your hips. I wondered how you’d react if I licked around the skin just visible above your jeans, or even how it would feel if I dipped my tongue below the button that held them up. I really like the idea of licking you all over.” I frown. “I’m not sure why I want to do that, but the thought makes me feel swollen and tingly.”
Rafael reaches to the front of him, and then mumbles, “You, please, need to stop winding me up.” His hand stills on the front of his jeans.
25
RAFAEL
“OKAY,” she agrees, her head tipped to the side as she watches me through half-lidded eyes. “I’ll stop teasing you. I’m not sure what has come over me today. I’ve never acted like this with anyone before. Only you. You make me ache, Rafael, and it scares and excites me all at the same time.”
I swallow hard and know I have to be the responsible one, because Wren sounds confused about what is happening to her body. I know what’s happening, though. She needs my touch to ease the burning ache deep inside of her, just like I need hers.
“It’s okay, Wren.” Moving my hand away from the front of my jeans, I let her see how big my ache for her is. Her eyes widen and stay on my groin, until I step closer and reach for her hand. I intertwine our fingers and lead her toward the stream, pulling her down beside me.
The sound of water is soothing and helps me get my body back under control as we sit in silence. I’m glad because the silence is welcome. I’m almost scared of what Wren will say next.
“Are you angry with me?”
“What?” I snap my head to be able to see her. “Why would you think that?”
“You went quiet.”
“I needed to calm down.” I offer her a smile and let her see the mirth in my gaze. “You and your words wound me up. I’m good now.”
“I wish things were different,” Wren says, a forlorn expression on her pretty face.
Untangling our fingers, I slide my arm around her shoulders and hold her close. “I do too.” I kiss her brow. “No matter what happens, I’m here for you. No matter what.”
Her eyes search mine, and she says, “Why does that sound like you know what’s about to happen?”
“I don’t. I just know something isn’t right in this town and the Reverend is at the center of it all.”
“I know.” She sighs heavily. “Will you tell me about life in New Orleans? I haven’t been anywhere.”
“You’ve never left the town?” I find that impossible to believe.
“I don’t remember much from when I was younger, but I think I was born somewhere else. Since I’ve lived here, I haven’t gone anywhere. The Reverend won’t allow it.” She blushes. “He doesn’t like me being with anyone but him.” She shrugs. “He never leaves, so I never leave.”
I don’t want to push Wren to remember things from her childhood, so I tell her about mine. “My birth mom died when I was a baby, so I don’t remember her at all. Sarah, my mom, only came into my life when I was ten. I didn’t need or want anyone else in my life. I had Dad and he was enough. Or so I thought.” I chuckle. “Sarah was nice to me. No matter what I said or did—sometimes I was horrid—she told me she loved me. I loved her too, and Roman. They made us a true family and I miss them.”
“Roman—”
“He was one year old when they came to live with us.” I stare out over the stream, realizing I should have kept my mouth shut. She has no one to tell, so I continue, “They’d had a rough time of it beforehand and Dad wanted them safe, so he brought them to our home. It turned out to be the best thing he did.”
To my surprise, Wren swings a leg over my legs and settles on my lap, her arms wrapping around my neck, really holding me tightly. “I’m so sorry, Rafael. I wish I’d known them. I wish I was there for you when you lost them.”
My arms tighten around her and I bury my face in the curve of her neck. It feels good being held by her and being able to hold her too without fear of the Reverend catching us. I haven’t forgotten he’s close, but I know Dad will alert me in some way if the Reverend moves closer.
26
WREN
CHURCH ON SUNDAY isn’t optional for anyone, especially me.
The house has to smell like polished wood, blended with the aroma of roasting chicken in the oven. It’s on low so that it will be ready when I arrive home from church. That will give me time before the Reverend arrives to prepare the potatoes and vegetables. It has become routine rather than a chore in the years since I’ve been tasked with doing it.
The one thing to change has been me. I’ve grown in more areas than just height, and my Sunday dress has had to be replaced more than once. That hasn’t pleased the Reverend because he hates spending money on clothes for me. My new dress is pink with a fitted bodice and flared skirt that rests below my knees. It’s made from cotton and feels cool against my skin, which is good in the heat of the day. The style with its flower-shaped neckline is nice and I think I look pretty in it. I’ve brushed my hair for longer than usual and have left it down. I do this for Rafael’s benefit even though he won’t be at church. As I slip my feet into matching pink ballerina shoes, I hope he will see me when I step outside the house.
The Reverend has been talking on his phone, but he stops mid-conversation as I appear, and his eyes sweep over me in a lingering glance. I feel sick being looked at in that way and it worries me. He’s only looked at me so strangely since Marcel and Rafael have moved in next door. I don’t think it’s connected, more of a coincidence, but either way, I really don’t like it. He indicates for me to
get in the car.
Tempted to climb into the back, I resign myself to the front passenger seat, relieved the hem of my dress is long enough to cover my legs. We don’t exchange any words and, as soon as we arrive at the church not five minutes later, I’m left sitting like an idiot while he is already inside his church. Sighing, I climb from the vehicle and make my way around the side of the large, white building to the Sunday school entrance. I hate this part of my Sunday. I’m still expected to partake in the church day, so I’ve opted to stay in the school part for the younger children. The Reverend is happy with my choice, because he thinks I’m teaching his words to the children. What I really do is sit at the back and daydream. I do help with the children, but only to keep them settled.
Agnes Mercer is the Sunday school teacher and her whole attitude is just like the Reverend’s. She scares me when her beady eyes focus on me. I’ve learned to hide it well over the last couple of years. She hasn’t liked that, but for now, there is nothing she can do about it. The younger children fear her too, maybe they sense the meanness in her. I always watch myself around her because one day she will knife me in the back as easily as she will say good morning to someone else. I think she is a bitter old spinster, but there is more sinister in her than spinster.
I want to be elsewhere—somewhere with Rafael, away from eyes like hawks watching us. It would be nice to spend more time with him down by the stream. I really enjoyed our time together there. I enjoyed it a lot more than I should have. So had Rafael. I want to touch him again like I had. I want to do that without his jeans being in the way.
The hour passes quickly and by the time the children start to put away their prayer books, my cheeks are on fire. Agnes watches me with an evil smirk on her face. She makes me angry and I want to smack the look right off her face. Of course, I don’t. I sneak away through the door that leads into the hallway toward the main part of the church.