True For You (Boys of the South)

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True For You (Boys of the South) Page 8

by Valentine, Marquita


  “Saying that doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay married to you. It’s just the truth of our situation,” I add. “Less messy is better. If we both commit to this, then we both have to be all in, not constantly worrying if the other shoe will drop. I can’t live like that, because I’ve been living like that since I was a little girl.”

  His fierce look melts away, and I think he finally understand what I’ve been trying to say all along. We can’t be reckless anymore. We have to be careful and consider all our options.

  He joins our hands together, lifting them up in the air. I notice that he still has on the wedding ring I’d given him, but I’m too much of a coward to mention it.

  I’d actually bought Jackson’s ring from the guy who’d performed the ceremony. It’s made of gunmetal and maybe it’s not as nice as the one he had given me, but I willingly bought it, knowing it would take a huge chunk out of the money I saved up. But if Jackson could be reckless, then so could I.

  “So you wouldn’t be opposed to making this a real honeymoon?”

  Of course he goes right to that, but honestly, what man wouldn’t? “No. I want to have sex.”

  Throwing back his head, he laughs. “I ask, you answer, just like always.”

  “Why waste time beating around the bush?”

  Lowering our hands, he kisses my knuckles. “I figured you want some time to be courted properly.”

  “Courted?”

  “Wooed.” He lets go of my hand and rises above me. “Any southern man worth his salt should woo his lady. And you’re my lady.” His head dips and my heart speeds up. “My sexy wife.” There’s nothing between us, but my panties. My soaking wet panties. “Do you know what the best part of sex is?”

  “Orgasms,” I say with the authority of someone who just had her first. That’s me, orgasm expert.

  He laughs, sensual and low this time. “Okay, so the second best part.”

  “I’ve never had sex.” One of his brows raise and I bite my lip, thinking of his fingers inside of me, his mouth on my most intimate parts. Yeah, we had sex, sorta. “I’ve never had sex-sex?”

  “The second best part of sex, baby doll,” he brushes a kiss over my mouth, “is,” another kiss, lower this time, and then he sucks at a sensitive spot on my neck, “anticipation.” He nips at my earlobe, and I moan. “Now let’s get something to eat.”

  “Eat?” Does he mean what I think he means?

  “I’m starving,” he says, and then jumps out of bed, leaving me lying there, turned on and panting for more.

  “You mean food?”

  “Naughty Bliss.” He grins his wicked at smile at me. “What did you think I meant?”

  Pulling the covers up to my nose, I eye him. “Nothing.”

  He leans over me, bracing a hand on each side of my shoulders. His blue eyes are so dark, ringed in an even darker blue. Most people tend to think the angels in Heaven have blue eyes, not me though.

  I’m convinced it’s only the ones who fell to Earth for sinning. Fornicating with the daughters of Adam and Eve, according to Miss Yancy. She read the Bible, every Sunday, from two to four, to all three of us foster kids.

  “Nothing sure sounds like something.” He kisses the tip of my nose and hands me my glasses, then stands and walks away. I follow him with my eyes, admiring the way his muscles flex while he walks, and how firm his—

  “Glad you like you the show, but do me a favor.” He pauses at the doorway to his closet and casts a hot look over his shoulder. I practically melt into the mattress.

  I let the sheet slip a little lower. “What’s that?”

  “Stop staring at me, and get your hot little body out of bed and dressed, before I go straight from courting to fucking you senseless.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jackson

  “When courting a lady,” I flip a pancake high into the air and catch in the pan on the way down, then set it on the burner so it can finish cooking, “the first thing you do is take her to dinner. But when that’s not possible, you make her brunch, and hope that suffices.”

  Glancing at Bliss, I wink at her.

  She smashes her lips together, but they still curve up in the corners. I’m not sure if she’s impressed or thinks I’m ridiculous. Possibly, she thinks I’m both.

  “It more than suffices,” she says, picking up a piece of bacon. “Food is the way to my heart and stomach.”

  I give her a once over, making those pretty cheeks of hers blush. “What about the other parts?”

  Her mouth opens and shuts a couple of times before she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “Kisses work…and touching me.”

  A grin kicks up the corners of my mouth, even as desire rushes through me. I can’t get the image of her sexy body out of my head. The way she tasted better than anything I’ve ever had. Then her hands on my body, stroking and—my dick starts to harden.

  “Don’t stop there, baby doll. You can’t shock me.” I motion to my groin, and her eyes grow wide. “In fact, I’m enjoying it.”

  “I think I’m shocking myself,” she murmurs before biting into the bacon.

  Taking the pan off the burner, I turn off the gas with my free hand and then slide the pancake onto my plate as I struggle to get control of my raging hard-on.

  After a minute, I join Bliss at the breakfast table, in a little nook surrounded by windows. The view of the ocean is amazing, even if it’s rough as hell right now. Storm clouds are still visible, and most likely, according to the weather guy, another round will pummel the coast tonight.

  “How are your pancakes?” I ask, slathering mine with peanut butter, jelly, and syrup.

  “Yummy. I think I ate more than you.” She licks her fork, little pink tongue sliding along the tines and making my stomach clench.

  “I can make more,” I offer.

  Then she does licks the fork again and again, until I’m sure nothing remains on the metal, but I can’t stop staring. “Too full.”

  Finally, Bliss puts the fork down and places her elbows on the table, cupping her cheeks with her hands. “Your pancakes are getting cold.”

  I tear my gaze from her mouth. “Huh?”

  “Pancakes. Cold.”

  I eye her, the look of satisfaction giving me pause. “Were you doing that on purpose?”

  “Maybe.”

  I take a bite of my food, mulling over what to say next.

  “I thought that it was only proper to flirt with a southern boy while he courts me,” she says, her voice all breathy.

  I swallow. “My Bliss was flirting?” This is a first. She’s never flirted with me. Ever. Or at least not so blatantly that I’ve actually noticed.

  She nods, then glances away. “I guess I was doing it wrong, but Vi—one of my friends said that guys like it when you draw attention to your mouth.”

  I don’t miss the little slip. My ex-girlfriend had been schooling Bliss on how to flirt during the tour? Interesting. “Your friend had it right. So did you.”

  “Oh.” A pleased smile appears on her face and her hands fall away.

  The thought of Bliss teasing me banishes any thoughts of my ex having a hand in this. “Would you like to know a guy’s prospective on the subject?”

  “Sure.”

  “You should do whatever you feel comfortable doing. I’m pretty damn easy to please.” I stab another forkful of pancake. “Feel like touching me, touch me. Feel like kissing me for no other reason than it’s two in the afternoon—go for it. Say what you want. Dirty talking, sweet talking—I don’t care, because I know everything that comes out of those sexy lips are for me alone.” With that I finish off the rest of my pancakes.

  Exhaling, her breasts rise and fall under one of my shirts. She watches me as I drain my glass of orange juice and eat the last piece of bacon, but not before I offer it to her first.

  I’d love to keep talking to her about flirting, but my libido can’t take anymore. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you.”

  “Oka
y.” Settling back into her chair, she waits for me to continue and I smile. I can’t help it. That’s the Bliss I know, not the flirting one. One word answers and silence reigning. Whatever she wants to be around me, I’m fine with, because I don’t think she’s had the chance to be anyone really. Kind of like me.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m impressed as hell that you somehow survived being homeless for so long, but how did you get jobs or even a driver’s license, without being able to read very well?”

  “I took jobs that paid under the table, like watching kids, or cleaning homes and offices. Stuff like that.” She let out another shaky breath, drawing up her legs onto the seat of the chair and wrapping her arms around her knees. “My driver’s license is another story… when I lived with the Coreys. Brian Corey worked for the DMV and administered the test. He gave me the answers ahead of time, because he and Helen needed me to be able to drive the kids around when they couldn’t.”

  Clenching my jaw at the unfairness of her situations, I managed to ask, “How was that your responsibility?”

  “I was earning my keep.”

  Beating out a rhythm on the table, I tamper down my fury. Of course, I’m not angry at her. I’m angry for her. But letting that out, in whatever way it would manifest itself, serves nothing, not when I’m getting to know this beautiful girl. Really know her, and not just her body.

  “Can I ask you something?” Her eyes are wary behind her glasses.

  “Yes.” I scoot my chair closer to hers, and then lift her right out of it. “You belong right here, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.” She melts into me, snuggling against my chest. “Are you still bent on me being your muse, because you want me to be this person that can inspire you to make music?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. What I do know—when I left the tour, all I wanted was to escape. “I’m not sure of anything, really, when it comes to my career.”

  “It’s okay not to know or even to change your mind.” She presses a soft kiss against my throat. “Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what we really need.”

  That evening, when I take her to bed, I pull her into my arms and hold her the entire night, not trying to seduce her.

  Another storm rages outside, but I’m not worried at all. Just her presence gives me comfort I’ve never known. There’s something so familiar about her, but I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s just the way she accepts me for who am I.

  Only problem with that, I’m not sure who I want to be anymore.

  ***

  I’m sitting with Bliss on the dock, fishing for our supper in the sound. The wind blows gently, ruffling her hair.

  Usually, fishing makes me calm and contemplative, instead of all amped up. Usually, I fish with my dad or Cameron, not Bliss, the one woman I want and can’t have because I’m holding myself to the promise to courting her.

  There’s nothing more I want to do than to lay her down, strip her out of my old clothes, and—

  “Ahh!” She squeals, scrambling back from the edge. I catch her fishing pole before it hits the water. “Something bit me!”

  “Does it hurt?” I ask, glancing her way. She’s examining her foot, bringing it up to her nose to inspect it. It’s comically arousing. The girl is bendy.

  “No.” She gives me a shy smile. “I might have overreacted.”

  After she sits down beside me again, I hand the fishing pole back to her. “Most likely it was a crab or a turtle. Now they know how sweet you taste, they’ll be back for more.” I wiggle my brows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

  The sound of a boat engine captures our attention.

  “Who’s that?” she asks, shielding her eyes.

  “Cameron.” I stand, hooking my fishing pole on one of the pilings. Bliss does the same.

  “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

  “That because he’s coming to rescue you from me.”

  She laces her fingers with mine. “I don’t need rescuing from you. I want to be here and have sex on my honeymoon.”

  I almost choke. “Good to know.”

  “Jackson,” Cameron calls out. “You two okay?”

  “No. It’s zombie us and if you try to dock your boat, we’ll eat your brains,” I shout.

  “Zombies eating brains?” She wrinkles her nose. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “Zombies are popular.”

  “Since when?”

  Amazing what this girl doesn’t know actually does to me. I feel ashamed for assuming she’d get my pop-culture reference. “For a while now, but I guess you haven’t much time for The Walking Dead or Warm Bodies.”

  “Maybe we can watch it one night, after the power’s back on,” she says lightly.

  “You don’t have to.” I let go of her hand and catch the rope Cameron throws me, wrapping it around the metal bar on the pier. He cuts the engine and joins us.

  “Hi Cameron,” Bliss says, smiling at him. My gut churns, jealousy rising from it.

  He smiles back and I recognize that smile. He might not think of himself like me, but all men are like me. They all want what they can’t have. And he sure as hell can’t have Bliss. Unless she chooses him over me.

  With that awesome thought, I position myself in front of my wife. “Everything okay at your house?”

  “Fine.” He cocks his head to one side, studying me. “The only reason I came by was to make sure both of you were okay.”

  Wrapping an arm around Bliss’ shoulders, I pull her to me. “Fine and dandy here.”

  “We’re having fish for supper. Want to eat with us?” Bliss asks. I’m not sure if she’s asking because she truly wants him to stay, or because she thinks it’s the right thing to do.

  Cameron’s gaze goes to me and I raise my brows, daring him to say yes. “Thanks, but I already have plans tonight.”

  “You sure?”

  I slice my gaze to Bliss. “Yes, he’s sure. He’s probably doing something humanitarian or something.”

  “Exactly.”

  Bliss blinks up at me, green-eyed innocence. “Shouldn’t you help him, then?”

  I open my mouth to speak, and then shut it.

  Cameron punches me in the shoulder. “Hope Baptist Church would love for you to help.”

  “Praise Jesus,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Anything I can do?” Bliss asks, practically bouncing.

  “Not this time, unless you can work a chainsaw,” he says. The sun chooses that very moment to shine on his head, and I swear to God that there’s a damn halo surrounding it. “We’re going from house to house and cutting up trees, only moving the big stuff.”

  She grins, and I want to punch Cameron for making her smile like that. “No, sorry. But if you need help with non-chainsaw stuff, then I’m your girl.”

  A growl actually leaves my mouth.

  Cameron stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Yeah… so you might want to change. I’ve got gloves you can borrow.”

  Of course he does. “What about looting?”

  He squints, looking over my shoulder. “Couple of guys, a father and son team, were spotted going house to house, breaking in and taking stuff. But they focused on the rentals and out of towners.”

  “Were they caught?”

  An uneasy look settles on his face. “Not yet.”

  “Then I’m staying here.”

  “Bliss, do you mind if I have a word with Jackson in private?” Cameron asks.

  “Sure.” She walks away from us, and I watch as she makes her way to the house, and it’s not until she’s safe inside that I turn to my buddy.

  “Thanks for making me look like an uncaring asshole, Cam.”

  “It’s your own damn fault.”

  “Oh, so you’re not being a humanitarian this afternoon?”

  Cameron exhales, taking a hand out of his pocket and running it through his brown hair. “Already did it this morning. It was most
ly water damage and not wind. There wasn’t a lot to do.”

  “Thanks for asking me.”

  “I was being considerate, dumbass. I figured you wanted time with your bride.”

  “By leaving us here to die?”

  Cameron shakes his head. “God, there’s no winning with you. Bliss must love that.”

  “Keep her out of it,” I growl. “In fact, now that you’ve seen we’re okay, you can carry your tail home.”

  “Actually, I’m feeling faint with hunger.” He places his hand over his stomach. “Seriously dying.”

  “Punch to the head could cure you of it.”

  “Is your answer always violence?”

  I narrow my eyes. “With you it is.”

  He holds up his hand, palms facing up. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” He steps into his boat and starts up the engine. I toss him the rope. “Should I stop by tomorrow and check on you guys?”

  “Only if you think getting your nuts cut off is fun,” I say cheerfully.

  Cameron maneuvers the boat away from the pier. “Be sure to tell Bliss that I said bye, and I’m looking forward to having her in class.”

  “That’s the only place you’ll have her,” I mutter, and then raise my voice. “Later, Cam. Much, much, later.”

  I don’t head back to the house until he disappears around a bend in the sound. The door opens and Bliss comes out, wearing one of my t-shirts and that’s it.

  Running an appreciative gaze down her, I wink. “Nice outfit.”

  Glancing down at the shirt, she lightly tugs on it. “This old thing?” She laughs. “I always wanted to say that.”

  I wrap my arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. “Anything else you always wanted to say?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  For the past two days, Bliss has centered our schedule of doing things around meals. If we go anywhere, even five feet away from the house, she brings a snack. Yesterday, I wanted to clean out my truck, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off crewing her. So what does she do? She finds some ice cream sandwiches and eats one so slowly that my dick gets all hard.

 

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