by Teagan Kade
“I shouldn’t have left. I know that and I know I hurt you. If I could go back and redo that decision, I would do it in a heartbeat. Instead, I can only say that I’m sorry. I want to tell you everything, I want to start fresh, make things right between us if I can.”
My stomach is fluttering as he swallows, and brushes a lock of stray hair that’s in my face. The feel of his rough fingertips gives me chills.
“I’ve wasted a lot of years running from choices I made as a kid—mistakes I thought had permanently changed me, ruined me. I thought I didn’t deserve the kind of life I wanted. It never crossed my mind, not until I met you, until you did expect more of me, I might be capable of coming back from those choices. I don’t know if I’m worthy of you, but I want to try to be.”
I can’t take it anymore. I pull him down to me and kiss him with all the longing that’s built up in me. His lips are eager, and his hands are gripping me firmer, pulling me closer until our bodies are crushed against one another.
I can feel the hard pressure against my middle that sends shivers down my spine. The fabric between us is chafing. I want it to be gone.
I look around, finding his car across the street and grab his hand, pulling him with me towards the car.
“Let’s get out of here before we end up tomorrow’s gossip,” I tell him, pulling him into another kiss as I lean back against the car, waiting for him to unlock it.
“I don’t have a place anymore. I broke my lease on the house,” he says, as he lowers his lips to my neck.
“Yes, you do actually. I never signed any of the paperwork on the shop. It was too hard to go back there, knowing you weren’t there. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go back there.”
My hands tangle in his hair. I love the way he feels pressed into me against the hard, cold surface.
He gives me a quick nip before breaking the contact, unlocking the car, and opening the door for me. We climb in and race back to the shop.
It’s a ten-second drive, but it feels far longer.
I can’t keep my hands off him, kissing his neck, groping his chest, his muscular thighs, needing to cover every inch of his perfect body with my hands. I reach down between his legs and graze lightly over that delicious lump beneath his jeans.
When we finally pull up to the shop, I’m just about ready to start tearing at his clothes.
He leaps out and is at my door in seconds, swinging the door open wide and scooping me up. I sling my arms around his neck, lightheaded from it all, and let him carry me to the door to the shop. Setting me down briefly, he pulls a key out from his jeans, unlocks it quickly and kicks the door in with the tip of his boot.
I rush in and grab his hand dragging him to the garage. Gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the high windows, Jerry’s baby blue convertible GTO sits right where Mason left it.
“You haven’t given it to Jerry yet?” Mason says, surprised as I work to pull back the top.
“Well, we never test drove it, did we?” I tease. “Besides, his birthday is in another week. I didn’t want to bring it home and ruin the surprise.”
“How is he?” he asks, and the genuine concern in his voice tugs at me.
“We can talk about it later. But, as a matter of fact, since Jerry doesn’t know about any of this, still thinks she’s just sitting idle in the garage, he told me she’s mine… she’s practically a brand-new car at this point. I could use some help breaking it in.”
Mason comes up behind me, hands at my hips, pressing his hardness against my backside, grinding against me.
“If that’s what you want...” he purrs into my ear as he traces little circles on my neck just beneath my ear.
I turn, pushing him away gently and smiling, feeling wicked.
Slowly, I unbutton my dress, enjoying the hungry way he watches my movements. The dress drops in a puddle around my feet and I step out of it, losing my work heels in the process. Lifting one arm up I pull out the large clip holding my hair in place, shaking the curls out and loose.
“Right now, I want to stop aching over the past, I don’t want to worry about what’s going to happen in the future. What I really want, right now is to just be here, with you,” I admit, sliding into the back seat as his mouth spreads into a sensual, dimpled grin.
And then he’s there, on top of me, pulling the shirt over his head and pressing me into the cushioned seat.
He’s kissing at my neck, my breasts—the tight peaks sensitive beneath the thin cream cotton jersey of my bra. It’s like my whole body is on fire.
My body aches for him. Like a fever consuming me—my skin is heated, my muscles quivering, my thoughts a jumble of frustrated need. Hot moisture pooling at my core, throbbing and ready to take him, I lift my hips up to him.
He reaches down and pushes his pants and briefs down, maneuvering out of them. They land with a plop on the concrete floor of the garage.
I reach down to wiggle out of my panties, but he catches my hands and slowly, silently shakes his his head ‘no.’
Instead, he lowers his mouth to the fabric and sets his mouth on me, the thin fabric adding a slight friction that has my muscles coiling, as his wet exploration is carrying me towards the peak of sensation. My hands play in his hair again, tugging gently, desperately begging him with my body to bring me release.
Finally, he raises his head and pulls at my panties with his teeth, sliding them down, bit by bit while he teases me once more with his fingers—rubbing small, tight circles that have me gasping, panting, dying for him.
Finally, he hovers over me, and we lock eyes. Through the shadowed moonlight of the garage, I can see the hard angles of his face, taut with desire.
“Jeanie,” he breathes as he enters me, as if my name were a prayer. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans.
I can’t help but moan at the pleasure, the sheer, sinful indulgence of this fullness. My senses reeling, spiraling out of control, I find deliverance in the movements of our bodies, the sweet intoxication of his strokes.
Through heavy lids, I watch his face as he thrusts, impaling me, pushing me towards the edge. His eyes are frozen on mine. It’s powerful, this connection between us.
His pace quickens and I hear my own voice hitch. His name becomes a chant, a plea, a desperate, maddening recitation.
Harder, faster, he drives into me and, at last, the edge slips away and I shatter, light exploding around me as I feel my body shuddering. Still, I hold his eyes as he surges forward once more and he releases on a throaty moan, the vibrations rippling across my skin.
Our bodies locked together in perfect harmony, he collapses down on me, kissing where his lips land.
I luxuriate in the weight of him, the incredible way our bodies fit together so well, as if there is no better or worthier use for them than to be here, tangled with each other.
I close my eyes, savoring the moment as he breathes heavily against my neck.
“Jeanie?” Mason whispers.
I open my eyes, his cock still inside me. “Hmm?”
“I think we’re done practicing,” he whispers, lips centimeters away from my ear, one hand dragging across the sensitive skin of my ribs, still alive with sensation.
My heart is seizing, my breath caught in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“That I love you and I want to do this for real. Screw practicing,” he says, meeting my eyes.
It’s like the air has been sucked out of my lungs, but I manage to find just enough for a response. “I love you too.”
“Good, because I’m not letting go of you again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MASON
Riding through Silver Springs, the top down on the GTO, endless blue sky overhead, music streaming through the air that’s sending Jeanie’s hair fluttering, flashing as it catches the sunlight, feels about as close to heaven as a guy like me could ever hope to get.
Part of me still wonders if I have any right to this kind of perfection, but then Jeanie l
ooks at me with that hungry look and I forget to worry about it.
It’s July 29th, Jerry’s birthday, time for the big surprise we’ve been building towards. Since I’ve been back I’ve come over several times to the house, spent time with Jerry. Both he and Jeanie know the truth of my past. Their acceptance has been humbling.
I told Jeanie first. It was terrifying, exposing all the darkest corners of my past to her. But the relief was swift and intense. Her words had been far more forgiving than I deserved.
“Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with this. I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t wrong to keep quiet, but I can also, honestly say, that doesn’t make you a monster. You were young, you were scared, and you trusted your friend. You didn’t hurt anyone and nothing you could have said afterwards would have changed the fact that that poor girl went through something awful,” she’d said, green eyes full of empathy.
Still, I couldn’t let myself off that easily. “Well, it’s more than that, if Buddy has hurt anyone else in the years since...”
“It still wouldn’t be your fault. Doesn’t sound like that boy Charlie even went to jail. You’re not responsible for their behavior. You’re responsible for you and you alone.”
She’s got a point.
I’d never really given much thought to the repercussions Charlie faced. He’d been expelled, there had been a scandal, but he’d still gone on to a career in finance courtesy of his father’s connections. Poor Madeline had never gotten her justice, but maybe Jeanie was right, that there were larger factors behind that than my unwitting participation.
“I never thought of it that way. But it still doesn’t change the fact I went on and made a career out of defending people that likely deserved the punishment I helped them avoid,” I admitted, needing her to understand I hadn’t been all lightness and good deeds, needing her to see all of me, not just the glossed-over version.
She grabbed my hand. “A career you were pushed into… and that you had enough sense to get out of, even if it took you a little while to do it.”
“Yes, but…” I started to say.
“Mason, you’re not going to talk me out of loving you.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss me with those sumptuously soft lips.
No matter how many times I had her, I couldn’t help wanting more.
“How about I talk you out of your clothes instead?” I asked, snaking my hand around her waist.
“That might be doable.”
Then we had promptly christened the many rooms of my new place, a rambling farmhouse down the road from Jeanie and Jerry’s.
Jerry’s reaction, on the other hand, had been slightly more colorful—something about me being dumb as a watermelon or some such.
But he’d come around when I had made clear I was serious about Jeanie and that I was owning up to my mistakes.
“I s’pose we all make mistakes from time to time, and I s’pose you’d have to be double-backboned to come out here and lay it all out for me. I wasn’t inclined to be too forgiving, not after the way you had Jeanie slinkin’ round here like a dog that got his tail lopped off, but all this reminds me of when John Black…”
And then he started in on a story about some woman named Marlena Evans I didn’t quite understand. Jeanie ended up interrupting him about five minutes in when he started talking about demonic possession, and refocusing the conversation.
We’d been good since then, though, an understanding of sorts between us. In some ways, he reminds me of my own Pop and I find myself enjoying dinners at the house.
Now we’re pulling up outside their pale pink two-story house. Jeanie’s been buzzing with excitement the whole morning.
“He’s going to be so thrilled!” she exclaims, giddiness showing in her wide smile. “Let’s park it in the driveway over here,” she says, directing me around the corner, just out of sight from the front door.
“Did you bring the bow?” She asks.
I pop the trunk and pull the giant, oversized red ribbon out. “And risk your wrath?”
She laughs grabs it from me, “You know you love it when I’m a pain in your ass.”
I pull her to me and steal a quick kiss, dipping my tongue into her mouth as I cup one perfectly curved cheek. “I know that I love you, and if you’re interested in ass-play, I’m happy to help a girl out.”
She blushes and slaps at me playfully, before she hurries over to the windshield and plops the bow front and center.
Watching her bend over the car, breasts smashed against the glass, leaves my cock uncomfortably alert. I remind myself that we’ll have plenty of time for that later.
Jeanie bounds up the front steps and I try to keep pace, her giddy excitement is starting to wear off on me. I wait at the door while she helps Jerry to the front stoop as I hear her happily chatting.
He looks weak, smaller even, in the doorway. They won’t know for another few weeks if the chemo is working, but my heart tells me Jeanie doesn’t have much time left with him.
“Happy birthday, Jerry!” I say, smiling.
He looks at me a little grumpy, “Hmph! This is the surprise you just had to drag me out here for? Coulda said that to me from my recliner!”
We both laugh and I come over, bracing an arm and letting him lean into me, supporting his weight as we descend the handful of steps.
Jeanie explains, “Actually, Uncle Jerry, the surprise is a touch better than that.”
We walk the few steps around the corner and come into view of the GTO, in full shining glory.
Jerry stops short, tenses up, and stares… and stares… and stares.
“Happy birthday!” Jeanie announces.
He’s still silent, staring in shock.
After a moment, Jeanie finally urges him, “Well what do you think?”
It takes him a bit to answer, his voice sounding soft and a broken. “My baby, you fixed her… but how?”
Jeanie smiles. “Do you think I took the job at Mason’s garage for fun?”
“No, I thought you took it ’cause you liked droolin’ over him,” he quips back.
I laugh. “It’s true. You do drool,” I tease Jeanie.
Jeanie gives me a narrow-eyed look that is probably meant to threaten me but only serves to arouse me further.
Jerry keeps walking forward and reaches the car, running his fingers over the frame, taking in every detail.
“Fine job you did here. She looks almost the same as the day I bought her,” he looks wistful. “Took me a heck of a long time to save up for her, but man, when I drove her down Main Street, there were some necks cranin’.”
I nod. “There were a few doing just that on our way over.”
He gets to the fender and finds the decal Jeanie wanted special ordered. A small chrome nameplate that reads ‘LOLA’ circled in roses.
Jerry smiles briefly before his expression turns sad, holding back tears as runs his fingers over it and explains. “This was the car I was in when I picked up Lola for our first date, near sixty years ago now.”
He breathes heavily, and his expression and voice seem lost in memories as he continues, “She was so beautiful in that pink dress, smart little white gloves, and her hair all done up. I had to put the top up cause she was worried it’d get ruined from the wind. Lord, I can almost see her there in that passenger seat.” He smiles wider. “It was our wedding car, too.”
And it will be ours too, I think, the ring I picked up in New York hidden safely away.
Jeanie comes up and puts her hand on his shoulder and after a moment asks, “Shall we go for a ride?”
Jerry nods, too choked up to respond. I open the passenger door and help him lower into the seat, then I hop in the back seat while Jeanie climbs into the driver’s seat, looking so sexy at gears.
We head out onto the road. In the side mirror, I can see Jerry close his eyes, enjoying the sunshine on his face.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling out of Silver Springs onto the highway. Jerry looks around, confused.
“Where are we going?” he asks, turning to Jeanie.
In the rearview mirror, Jeanie gives me that sexy, wayward smile of hers and then reaches over into the glovebox and pulls out a post card, handing it to Jerry with a smile.
“The Grand Canyon, and we’re going in style,” she says, surprising us both.
I’ll have to pay her back later for this wild hair, but I can’t deny it, I love being on her leash.
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
MASON
“There’s none of that cursed quinoa in here, is there?” Jerry’s busy inspecting his meatloaf with his fork.
“Quinoa!” Addy giggles, in a perfect rendition of Jerry’s own mispronunciation. She just turned three. I’m amazed at the words coming out of her little mouth.
Addy slaps her pudgy, pincushion hands down on her plate, meatloaf flying everywhere, but no one seems to care. We’re together at the farmhouse and it’s a Sunday, the sky outside the same cerulean as when I first drove into Silver Springs. I had no idea what I was doing then, but I never imagined it would lead to this, to such happiness.
Addison, our angel, is cute as a button. Her eyes are the same piercing green as her mother’s, her hair a shiny, flaxen blonde that gets the local gossip brigade in a tizzy whenever we take her into town.
Jeanine smiles at me, picking up her own fork. “There’s no quinoa in the meatloaf, Uncle Jerry—no soy beans or chia seeds either. I promise.”
“Hmpf,” he replies, struggling to contain his smile. He stabs his fork into the loaf. “Belinda does a mean meatloaf, you know.”
Jeanie rolls her eyes. “She does, does she?”
Belinda is Jerry’s caretaker. We hired her as soon as he got his remission diagnosis. The doctor was clear that he wasn’t cured, that the chemo had simply bought him time, but we celebrated all the same.
When we moved into the farmhouse together, Jeanie was adamant Jerry come live with us, but he wouldn’t have it. Belinda was the compromise. Thirty years his younger, it was a tough slog at first, but she managed to work her way into his good books. These days the two are damn near inseparable, and she gives him no quarter, tough as an old boot when she needs to be, especially when it comes to getting him to take his meds. In fact, I think he just might be sweet on the ol’ girl. That’s provided she can edge out the other girl in his life… I reckon the GTO has seen more life in the last five years than the last fifty.