by Mj Hendrix
He doesn’t respond for a few seconds.
“I can’t tell…it’s dark. I just saw the bottom of your…” He doesn’t finish, apparently waiting for me to relieve his discomfort in the situation.
“Listen, I really am afraid of heights, so can you just please climb a little closer?” I’m about to burst out laughing, but I hold it in.
He slowly starts to climb, his face trained on the rungs in front of him instead of above. He reaches up to my calves and stops.
“Okay, are you ready?” His voice is strained, his eyes glued to the silo.
“Can we go together, please? At the same time?” I plead.
He nods his head, apparently not wanting to speak.
I start to ascend up the side of the enormous structure.
14
Adam
My favorite work jeans have never been so uncomfortable. I saw right up under her skirt, and she has to be joking about her panties because I only saw bare skin. My lower back is sweating, and we’re only about halfway up. I feel like this was a terrible idea, considering her fear of snakes and heights.
Great job, idiot, bringing her out in a field to climb a silo.
We’re nearing the top when she gasps, and I jerk my head up.
Her butt is directly in line with my vision, and I nearly lose my grip on the ladder as my hands start to sweat.
I’ve never seen such a flawless, round body part in my life. Her shape couldn’t be more perfect if I had dreamed it into existence. Realizing that I’ve been leering like a pervert, my face heats as I jerk it away.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I ask in a husky voice.
In the corner of my eye, I see the lights. Turning my face further, I’m met with the view I hoped we would see up here.
The Texas hill country is a rolling, mountainous area with small hills and valleys stretching for miles. The lights of Greencity are glittering in the distance with smaller ones dotting the countryside beyond. It’s difficult to determine where the land meets the sky. The night lights stretching across the land mirror the stars shining above. A sliver of the moon is a crescent above us.
“Wow…” Harley breathes. “This is literally breathtaking.”
The ladder leads me up a few more spaces until I’m standing on the one directly under her feet, my arms stretching around her body. Her delicious green-apple scent wafts toward me, mixed with beer from her work.
“Now, you know what I meant.” I hope she remembers my similar description when I saw her at the dance.
She turns her head toward me fully. “You seem…too good to be true,” she whispers.
Our bodies are flush together, and I’m worried she can feel how much I want her through my jeans.
“What can I do to make up for not taking you to the plant nursery? I was ignorant and horrible, and I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgi—”
She butts in, pressing a finger to my lips, “Please don’t. You had a right to be angry. You didn’t know. I’m sorry you felt so…betrayed.” She smiles faintly. “But next time, just ask me, please.” She grabs the ladder again.
“I hope there’s never a next time,” I say. “It would be bad for Kyle’s health if there were a next time.”
She laughs, her beautiful, melodic voice drifting out into the night.
My eyes focus on her pink lips. She instantly quiets, the silence of the night keeping any distractions from the moment. I wet my lips, so ready to taste her that I could burst with desire. She tilts her head to the side, our faces only centimeters apart because of my place on the ladder. Her eyes close, and I know it’s an invitation. As I edge closer, our breath mingles before I finally put my lips against hers.
Our first kiss is my first ever, and she’s so much softer than I anticipated. I risk my life by letting go of the ladder with one hand to reach around and grab the back of her neck. My fingers splay over her. The taste of her mouth is sweeter than homemade syrup. I move my lips gradually over hers, setting the pace torturously slow because I want to savor every drop of her.
She makes a soft moaning sound, and my natural instinct is to press further into her, intensifying the kiss with my own animalistic groan. Her tongue is petting over the seam of my lips. I part them slightly, and she slips it inside my mouth. My response is a primal need to know her in every way.
The gravity of my desire terrifies me, and I break off from her suddenly. My hand grips the bar again as I heave in gulps of the night air. My head is spinning, my mind in a fog. Her lips are close to my ear, and I hear that she’s almost as out of breath as I am.
As I pull back to gaze into her blue eyes, the look she’s giving me is disbelief.
“I thought you weren’t…experienced?” She’s still a little out of breath.
I smile at her question. “Oh yeah, what makes you say that?” The satisfaction in my voice is impossible to mask.
She chuckles, placing a delicate hand on my chest.
“You kiss like you know exactly what you’re doing.” She sighs indulgently, peering up at me with fluttering lashes.
My ego is rivaling the size of Texas right about now.
15
Harley
Adam is sitting in a booth at Billy’s Pub. Every time he looks at me, a stupid, ridiculous grin breaks out across my face. His does the same, and then his eyes change, burning over me before guiltily looking away. I’m overheating in my skin-baring uniform.
“Where did the Hanes model come from?” Sal asks me, smirking.
“He, uh, we’re friends.” Even I don’t believe it anymore.
“Ahh, yeah, I had a friend like that once. Not as pretty as him though,” she muses.
It’s a slow Monday night, and we only have a few regulars to serve besides Adam and Dan. They brought books to study, and they both ordered root beer. I know Adam is twenty-one, but I’ve never seen him drink.
“Well, you might as well go talk to him. He’s about to stare a hole clean through this bar. I’ll holler if I need ya.” She’s smiling and shaking her head.
I’ve been forcing myself to stay back here and work, but now that I have the green light, I have to keep my speed walk from turning into a run. His face brightens as I approach, and I suddenly feel shy.
“Hi,” I squeak, standing at the edge of the booth.
I feel like I’m in high school and I just got asked to prom by the football captain.
He leans toward me, trying to conceal his grin. “Hi,” he breathes, eyes immediately training on my lips.
My mouth is cherry red tonight. Without a doubt, he wants to taste it, just like I hoped. Heat is crawling up my chest and neck, and I notice that he is just as flushed.
Dan clears his throat, and our trance is broken.
“Hey, Dan,” I say brightly, turning to smile at him. “What are you studying for?” I take a seat in Adam’s booth.
“Biology. It’s almost as complicated as what you two have going on.”
He sure is a blunt one.
Adam kicks him under the table, and he grunts in pain.
“I was kidding, geez.” His eyes look mischievous.
I’m thinking he likes to screw with his brother. I cackle at the harsh glare on Adam’s face, directed at him.
“It’s fine. I can take a joke,” I reassure him.
I loop an arm under his, and we join hands under the table. His eyes are darkening as they focus on my lips again. I’ve created a monster, and I think it needs to be fed.
“Is your boss okay with us being here? I don’t want to get you in trouble.” His voice is a rumble as he leans closer toward me.
“Yeah. Billy isn’t here on Mondays. Just me and Sal. She thinks you’re an underwear model.” I’m teasing, but he still blushes.
His hand in mine lifts from the booth, and he puts them both on the inside of my thighs, his thumb brushing my skin. Tiny, little electric bolts shoot up my legs, and I breathe in.
“I’m going to get a refill,” Dan mumble
s as he exits the booth.
“Should I—” I start to move, but Adam interrupts and grabs my other hand.
“No, stay.” His thick lashes flutter down over his honey eyes, our faces close enough to almost touch.
“I missed you today,” he says, our shoulders brushing.
“I missed you too. I looked for you at lunch.” There’s a question in my voice.
“Yeah, sorry. I had a meeting.” He doesn’t elaborate.
It’s almost one in the morning, but I have to close down the bar.
“You’re so sweet to come visit me. Do you want to come over and watch The Princess Bride after I get off?”
It’s a big step out of our comfort zone. We have yet to be in a bedroom since our new, suddenly addictive dynamic. I don’t tell him Kenna went home for her mom’s birthday.
He grins, nodding his head.
“I’m going to take Dan back, then come get you, okay?” His voice is low and intimate.
My response is a nod, and we are both frozen. The moment is hinging on whether or not we are going to kiss in front of his brother at my place of work.
He settles with lifting my hand to his mouth and softly pressing his lips to my knuckles. Thousands of butterflies are migrating through my stomach.
An hour later, I walk out to his pickup, idling under the streetlights. He steps out and gestures for me to get in on his side. I’m perched in the middle of the row seat when he sits back down and closes the door. After shifting the gear, his arm moves around my shoulders. He plants a kiss on the top of my head.
“Everything go okay after I left?” he asks.
He smells divine, like his usual cedar and a fresh shower. My stomach tightens at what this might mean for tonight.
“It was dull and boring without you there to watch me.”
I’m pressed up against his side.
“Maybe I’ll just have to be there more often to keep you entertained.” His voice is playful, and I laugh.
“Sounds like a plan, Farm Boy.”
I scoot away as we pull up to the dorms, and he shifts the gear and parks.
We’re walking side by side into the orange brick building. He respectfully opens the door after I unlock it with my key card.
“Such a gentleman,” I observe as we get into the elevator.
Another girl is on it, holding a bag of books. He stares straight ahead of us. Once we get to my door, he’s noticeably silent.
Is he having second thoughts?
We walk in, and I flip on the lights, revealing my roommate’s absence. He ventures in behind me, looking over at her side and back at me, swallowing.
“She went home for her mom’s birthday.” I shrug. “Do you care if I shower off really quick?”
I’m already grabbing my PJs and heading for the en-suite bathroom.
“Okay,” he says quietly.
I smile and close the door. Rushing through my shower and nighttime routine has me debating whether or not I should leave my makeup on. I decide against it. I don’t look drastically different without it. I don’t wash my hair, but I do spray a little vanilla perfume on my wrists.
My nicer pajamas are some buttery-soft emerald-green shorts and a thin gray tank top. I put on a low-impact sports bra even though I usually sleep without one.
I emerge from the bathroom roughly eight minutes later to see Adam sitting with his ankles crossed, no shoes, on the foot of my bed.
His eyes rake over me and back up to my face.
“How does everything look incredible on you?” His voice is a little hoarse.
My fingers twiddle with the hem of my tank. It’s not that I’m not used to attention from men, but he’s different about it. Like my body is the pretty wrapping paper, but he wants to open it up and cherish the inside too.
“I, uh, thanks. You too though. I’m constantly checking your ass out in those old jeans.”
His mouth pops open, but he doesn’t speak.
This is the first time I’ve seen him wear track pants. I grab the tablet from Kenna’s desk. She has a laptop, too, so she lets me use it. After pulling up the movie, I position the pillows into a reclining backrest and motion for Adam to join me.
He blows out a breath before crawling over toward me and sitting on the outside edge, not touching me. His face is completely blank.
“Are you not a cuddler?” I ask, tapping the screen.
He hesitates, so I turn to look at him. He’s looking at me with guilty eyes.
“I’m just…afraid of what I might do. You smell so good,” he mumbles the words as he reaches a hand out to trace over the vine on my arm.
“We don’t have to do anything. Let’s just watch the movie.” It’s not what I want, but he seems to need some reassurance. “There’s nothing sinful about that, is there?” I quirk my brow at him with a smirk touching my lips.
His warm breath grazes my shoulder as he studies the many different pictures on my skin.
“Which one is your favorite?” he’s looking up at me with big eyes.
No one has ever asked me that, but I don’t have to think about it.
“Umm, this one.” I lift up my tank to show him the half-finished Medusa on my rib cage.
He inspects it carefully, fingertips trailing over her. We’re both breathing a little heavy. His touch is both soothing and unnerving.
“I saw it at the beach party. Is it someone you know?” He’s still tracing the unfinished snakes. The heads weren’t added, so it almost looks like thick cartoon hair.
“No, it was supposed to be Medusa. I left in the middle of the session to come here.” I really don’t want to talk about it, so I grab his hand and interlace our fingers. My tank slides back into place.
“Do you want popcorn?” I stretch my leg over him, climbing off the bed.
“Sure,” he manages on a shaky exhale.
I pop a bag in our little microwave. I feel him watching me but don’t look. The memories piling up are giving me second thoughts. He deserves someone better, someone without such a checkered past. He’s composed and good, and I’m…a disaster, a storm brewing, ready to blow in from my former life.
The beep sounds, and I take my time, dumping the contents into a bowl, trying to calm my shaky hands.
“Do you want me to go?” Adam asks quietly.
He’s standing near the bed, uncertainty creasing his features. His thoughtfulness warms my chest. He’s naive about some things—that’s obvious. He’s also perceptive and caring.
“No. I’m sorry. I guess I’m nervous too.” I try a faint smile, and he returns it.
We sit back on the bed—this time, with his arm around my shoulders. We start the movie.
“Oh, now, I get it,” he says when Buttercup calls Westley Farm Boy. “If I’d seen it, I would’ve said the next line.” He looks down at me, his smile fading as the moment suddenly turns intimate.
“Well, you can try it next time I ask you something,” I murmur.
All he does is nod, eyes heated.
I don’t waste any time, giving him the opportunity.
“Kiss me,” I challenge. A whisper is all I can manage.
He licks his lips and leans his head down, a breath away from my mouth. His voice matches mine, barely audible as he quotes the famous line with his own twist. "If you wish."
Our lips crash together, the buildup of tension, doubt, and desire creating a monsoon of emotion. We’re hungry for each other, fighting to set the pace, which only increases it.
He’s either led me on about being innocent or he’s just a natural when it comes to this. His mouth is soft and pliable, sliding over mine like it was always meant to be there. We could stay like this, here in this twin bed forever.
I press my tongue across his lips, willing him to let me in. He slowly opens up, and I tentatively reach in to taste him. He groans in pleasure, taking control of my body. Pushing me gently until I’m flat on my back, he looms over me, a hand reaching down to pinch at my waist.
<
br /> Our tongues meet, get acquainted, and trade places. We’re communicating with probing fingers and tiny gasps—Tell me what you like. I like it soft and then hard, desperate to feel your desire for me.
My teeth scrape over his bottom lip, sucking it gently in between my lips. It’s too good to be true, a fireworks display is in my head.
His body and mouth tense up, and he jumps off of me without warning.
When I open my eyes, he’s on the other side of the room, forehead pressed against the wall. His back is pulsing up and down, trying to catch up with his heavy breaths.
The cool air stings my fevered body as I sit up on my elbows.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart galloping inside my chest.
He sounds like he just competed in a two-hundred-yard sprint. Several long seconds tick by. He lifts his head up, turning toward me and adjusting the front of his pants. Is he mad at himself for being turned on?
“I don’t understand,” I say, sitting up. I press my thighs together; the ache is agonizing.
He’s staring at me, still across the room. The lights are off, the only source being a smidgen of moonlight shining through the window and the movie still playing.
“You deserve to be treated with respect, not mauled in bed before we even go on an official date.” He stands up straighter, arms at his sides. “I’ve been telling you I want to be friends and acting completely different.” He pauses, slowly stepping toward me. “Let me take you out to dinner. Please.” His voice is surprisingly composed.
My throat squeezes with the tenderness of his concern even though I wish he would stop respecting me for a few more minutes.
“Okay.” My voice is hoarse.
I realize that a guy has never asked me out to a dinner date before. They usually see me as the disposable, one-night kind of girl. That’s how I’ve always seen myself too.
“Can we finish the movie?” I bite my lip, nervous he’s going to leave.
He looks down at me, clearly at war with himself.
“I can get under the covers, and you lie on top,” I suggest, strangely fearful of being alone.