“He’s smarmy, yeah. Seems fairly innocuous, though.”
“He’s not.” Beth brought their entrees then, and Isaac sat back. He said no more on the subject of Mac Evans. They ate quietly, Isaac unable to shake off whatever ill news he’d gotten. They should have stayed in and cooked.
~oOo~
Lilli woke standing next to Isaac’s bed, her heart racing. The room was dark. When she had her bearings, she checked the clock on his nightstand: 3:21. Then she noticed that Isaac wasn’t in bed. Snagging his t-shirt from the floor and pulling it on, she went looking.
After doing a turn of the whole first floor, she checked outside and found him in the yard, sitting in a metal lawn chair—one that would be considered “vintage” and “kitsch” if it hadn’t been sitting in this very yard for probably 50 years. He was smoking. Lilli didn’t smoke, and Isaac never smoked inside except at the clubhouse, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be sitting outside with a cigarette. What was unusual was that he’d left the bed she was in to do it. He had a thing about waking up alone when he’d gone to sleep with her, and he didn’t do it to her, either.
She pushed open the wooden screen door, and it sang on its spring. He turned at the sound and watched her walked toward him, the glow of the dusk-to-dawn light giving the yard an ethereal glow. The air was still and muggy. The night creatures had quieted, the dawn creatures had not yet stirred, and the silence had weight. As she neared, he stubbed his smoke out on the ground and held his arms out to her. She sat on his lap, her arm across his shoulders.
Wearing only his jeans, he held her snugly, one hand on her hip, the other high on her thigh. “Did you dream, baby?” He rested his head on her chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“I’m sorry.” Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “You ever gonna tell me what they are? Afghanistan stuff?”
She sighed. She didn’t want to talk about them. She’d never spoken of them. She could say what she always said when he asked, that she didn’t remember, but it was a lie. He’d stop asking if she’d just tell him. “I guess. I mean, they started after I came back to the States, so I guess. But it’s not like I’m reliving memories from that time. They’re death dreams. I dream I’m being killed. Violently. I feel it happening. Sometimes it’s pretty gory.”
He’d lifted his head to look up at her as soon as she started to answer. “Christ, Lilli.”
Fearing he was about to engage in some amateur psychoanalysis, before he could say more, she asked, “What’s got you sitting out here in the big dark?”
He smiled, and Lilli saw the weight he carried in the low curve of his lips. “I’ll tell you. Soon, I tell you everything. But not yet. For now, I’ll say I just got a lot of people counting on me, and I don’t know how not to let them down. The whole town is looking to me, and I am outmatched. I’m not who they want me to be.”
“Who do they want you to be?”
He blew through his lips. “A fuckin’ savior.”
“I don’t know, love. I think maybe you saved me.” She cupped her hand around his jaw, her fingers tracing his scar. She’d yet to ask how he got it.
His whole body reacted to what she said, his arms clutching her more tightly, his eyes intent on hers. “You have to stay. I’m not gonna lose you. You have to stay.”
This was the wrong moment to start thinking about what could happen when Hobson and his brother got back, what a club vote might mean for them. “Isaac, we’re not talking about that stuff now.
“Fuck.” He dropped his head again to her chest. “Just fuck.”
Feeling a need to reshape this moment and reclaim the sliver of peace they were supposed to be enjoying, Lilli put her hand over his where it rested on her thigh and pushed it between her legs. He groaned, and she felt the vibration of it against her breast. When she moved his fingers into her wetness and over her clit, he groaned more loudly and took over.
She kept her hand on his, enjoying the way it moved against her palm as his fingers stroked and probed. Just as she was beginning to feel the warm current in her joints that signaled her climb toward release, he stopped and pulled his hand away, setting it on her hip. She whimpered and reached to bring it back, but he shifted her then, seating her square on his lap, facing away. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt where it rested on her thigh and lifted, encouraging her to raise her arms so he could pull it off. Once she was nude, she turned and put her hands on his belt, but he caught them in his and brought them to his lips.
“Just you, baby. I just want to touch you. Lay back on me.”
She did as he asked, and then arched hard, with a keening gasp, as he returned his hand between her legs and took her breast in the other. The feel of him took her under, dulled her consciousness as it sharpened her senses—his strong chest against her back, his rough hands cupping her most sensitive flesh, his lips firm and soft against her neck, her jaw, her ear.
As he worked her, his fingers making need unspool in her blood, he murmured in her ear. “Baby, your pussy feels like satin, it’s so smooth and soft. Ah, yeah, I love it when you squeeze me tight like that.” He pulled his drenched fingers up to swirl on and around her clit, making her hips dance on his lap. She could feel his erection bulging in his jeans, pressed against her ass and thigh. He rested his head on her shoulder with a groan. She wanted him inside her. All of him. She reached behind her and grabbed his belt buckle again, but his hand left her breast and clamped on her wrist, bringing her out from between them.
He spread his hand wide over her belly, pushing her flat against him. “Just let me feel you, baby. That’s what I want,” he murmured into her ear.
“Isaac, please. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock.”
He chuckled, and the sex in the sound made her clench and moan. “I will. When I’m done here, I’ll take you inside and give you my cock. Oh, yes, I will. I will fuck you well and truly. But now I want you to lie back and let me touch you.” He petted her, long sweeping strokes from her throat to her knee, as his other hand continued to probe and flex inside her. “Just relax and feel it, baby.”
She did. She released a long breath and relaxed into the curve of his body, letting him touch her. His hands were everywhere—her breasts, her throat, her arms, tracing the line of her collarbone, her legs, her belly. His fingers plunged deep into her core and her ass, pinched and rubbed circles on her clit. His mouth latched onto her neck and sucked and sucked.
She stayed relaxed and calm as long as she could, giving herself over to his touch, letting herself feel the way her need moved all through her, heating and loosening her joints and muscles all the way to her toes. His fingers were on her, in her, moving faster and harder by degrees until his body was shaking under her with his own efforts, and she couldn’t stay calm any longer. As her climax rolled closer, gaining speed, she grabbed his hand between her thighs and forced him to go harder, move faster, until it was on her, and she needed to coil her body up, but he wouldn’t let her, he held fast, whispering, “go, go, go, go, go, baby,” and she went rigid, ecstasy shooting through her like electricity, her sight going red and starry behind her eyelids, and she screamed.
When it was over, Lilli’s body went limp and liquid, and Isaac clutched her tight to keep her on his lap. She was glad; she felt sure she’d have ended up in a puddle at his feet. He’d done that to her—for her—with only his hands.
He kissed the skin beneath her ear and whispered. “I love you, Sport. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”
Lilli knew she should resist those words; he couldn’t know what the next weeks would bring. But the tendrils of ecstasy still held her, and when his arms tightened around her and he stood, swinging her legs into his hold, all she cared about was him making good on his plans for the night.
~oOo~
“Lilli . . . Lilli . . . Lilli.”
Sweet Jesus, she was going to kill him. She’d just gotten to sleep. Now h
e was running a finger up and down her spine, saying her name in an extremely life-threatening singsong voice.
She groaned and swatted at him. “No fucking way.” She tried to pull the covers over her head, but he blocked her.
“We gotta go, baby. You can sleep in the camper if you want. Rise and shine—or, well, rise, anyway. Looks like the shine’s awhile off.”
“What time is it?” She turned to glare at him.
“6:30.” About and hour and a half since they’d collapsed, sweaty and spent. How could he be so chipper? “Come on, soldier girl, that’s practically lunchtime for you, right?” He gave her ass a swat and got up. “Hey—I’m gonna make some coffee. You get up now, you can shower all by yourself. And there’s a brand new box of Cookie Crisp on the kitchen table.”
Grinning like an idiot, he left the room. Lilli got up. She wanted some room in the shower this morning.
Showered, dressed, caffeinated, and full of sugary cereal, Lilli felt marginally better. When she climbed into the camper, she felt even better. It was awesome. It was a little one, with a van front, a tiny kitchen and seating area, and a bedroom of sorts in the back. The best, very best, part was that it was at least 40 years old. Gold shag carpeting. Rust, gold, and avocado floral print upholstery. It was the tackiest thing she’d seen in a long time.
“Holy shit, this is beautiful!” she cried as she opened the side door and tossed her pack on the floor by the banquette. Isaac, standing on the ground leaning into the driver’s side, gave her a look that said he thought she was delirious, and she climbed into the passenger seat and grinned. “No, really, I love it. This is gonna be great!”
The way he was smiling at her now gave her a little heart tremor, and she said. “I love you.”
He wiggled his eyebrows in response. She liked that he didn’t mindlessly repeat it back when she said it. Like her, he valued those words and used them sparingly.
“Hey, come over here and sit behind the wheel for a sec—I need to check the trailer lights.” They were pulling a trailer behind the camper that held his show gear and inventory as well as his bike. She climbed over the center console and sat behind the wheel.
The lights checked out, and Lilli climbed back so Isaac could take the wheel. As they pulled away from his house, Lilli realized that she was in a fantastic mood. Despite the lack of sleep, despite the darkness in her past, despite what loomed in the near future, she felt light. She felt happy.
She didn’t want to lose it. She didn’t want to lose him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Isaac liked to arrive when setup opened; it got crowded once all the vendors were all trying to get their tents and booths together at once. But after their athletics of the previous night, he and Lilli had gotten a later start than he wanted. Not too bad, though, and the setup was going fine.
Isaac loved these shows overall, some more than others. Some, the juried art shows held in the middle of a bigger city, like St. Louis, were a nightmare to get to, expensive, and generally not worth the fuckery. This one in Tulsa, though, an arts and crafts show staged at a big state park on the far edges of the suburbs, was his favorite. It was big, so there was some earning potential. There was a good campground in the park, so most vendors set up camp there, and they’d do a big bonfire each night and party hard deep into the night. It was a good group of folks—mellow, good-natured, a little on the rougher side. Isaac’s kind of folks.
They’d dropped the trailer first thing, then parked the camper at their site and walked back to set up his tent. The booth rental fee included the actual booth, a white 10’X10’ tent with removable sides. It took awhile to get started, because everybody was glad to see everybody else—a lot of these men and women Isaac called friends, but they only saw each other a few times a year, at these shows. So there was hugging, fist-bumping, and arm-clasping to do with the vendors who were there when Isaac and Lilli got there, and the ones who continued to file in.
Isaac took especial pleasure in introducing Lilli around. Many were surprised; Isaac wasn’t known as a tied-down kind of guy. But they recovered their wits quickly upon talking to Lilli for half a minute. She was light and easy, knowing as if by instinct that she could unleash her sense of humor around this crowd, and she had just about everybody she met charmed. She seemed charmed herself. Isaac felt good. He could almost—almost—set aside his cares.
While Lilli went to the campsite to rig up the electric and pay for some bundles of firewood, Isaac was setting up his tent, hammering in the guy wires on the last pole, when he felt feminine hands on his back. Not Lilli—the scent of gardenias was strong behind him. Lucinda. Fuck. He hadn’t thought about Lucinda.
“Hey, lover.” It was her best, silkiest sex voice, whispered in his ear. Her hands crept down his spine and into the back of his jeans. He stood up, removing her fingers, and turned around.
“Hey, Cin.”
Lucinda made very pretty sterling silver and gemstone jewelry. Her work more craft than art, she didn’t do the juried shows, but she’d been Isaac’s fairly regular art show fuck for five or six years. She was a good-looking woman. Mid-forties, about five-six, long hair streaked just about every shade of blonde, but done artfully and attractively. Light brown, almost tawny eyes. Narrow hips, and not much ass, but tits for miles. She dressed in very snug jeans—Isaac knew exactly how snug, since he’d peeled them off scores of times—and flowing, filmy tops that showed lots of shoulder and cleavage. She knew her assets. She also modeled her own jewelry, so she wore rings on every finger, lots of earrings, a prominent pendant, and several inches of bracelets on each wrist. She could be heard coming a half-mile away. And yet, he hadn’t heard her. He’d been too preoccupied. Just as he’d been too preoccupied to remember her at all and give Lilli a heads-up about her.
Now, she stepped up against him and hooked her be-ringed hands around his neck, raising up on her tiptoes for a kiss. Luckily, she still couldn’t reach unless he bent down, because just then he saw Lilli returning, walking down the lane that was emerging between the tents going up. He put his hands around Lucinda’s waist and set her back.
“Sorry, Cin. I’m with somebody.”
She snorted. “Right. Like that’ll ever happen.” She stepped toward him again, and he held her off, giving her a warning look. She drew her brows together. “What—you’re serious? You brought a fuck with you?”
The surprising urge to give her a slap for that remark came over him, but he mastered it. Lilli drawing ever nearer, and very obviously paying attention, Isaac leaned down close to growl, “No. I brought my old lady with me. We’re done, Cin.”
Wait—old lady? The words surprised Isaac almost as much as they clearly surprised Lucinda, who drew back, gave him a killing glare, muttered, “Asshole,” and stalked off—in Lilli’s direction.
Isaac watched as Lilli gave her an absolutely brilliant smile and continued on. Lucinda stopped, turned and watched Lilli approach him. He was suddenly living his own special soap opera, set in hell.
Lilli walked straight up to him, muttered, “Make it good, pal,” and yanked his head down to kiss him hard. Feeling a little sorry for Cin, he obliged and wrapped his arms around Lilli, bending her backwards a little and kissing her until she was breathless. He raised his eyes mid-kiss to see Cin spin away and storm to her own booth.
Well, he now knew that his woman was the jealous type. Hopefully, Cin would behave, and the weekend wouldn’t become unnecessarily interesting.
He pulled up and set her back. “Feel better?”
Lilli put her hands on her hips. “And she is?”
“Lucinda. Old news.”
“Well, next chance you get, you might want to let Lucinda Old News know that I can break her neck with the heel of one hand.” She walked into his booth and opened a box of carved flowers. “Will there be more like her?”
Isaac found Lilli’s jealousy highly erotic. He’d hated possessive women. He’d learned that early on, and he’d kept to fuck buddies for year
s, dropping any of them the second he scented possessiveness. But Lilli’s possession he found entirely wonderful. It opened up something in his chest to feel claimed by her—and that’s what that kiss had been. A claiming. He shifted his very erect cock in his jeans, trying to find a more comfortable and more subtle position. “Unlikely. I’m sorry, Sport. I honestly didn’t even think about her.” As sexy as it was, he didn’t want it to turn into a problem. Wanting to pull their boat into safer waters, he stepped behind her and pulled her close. His mouth on her ear, taking in the smell of her, so different, so much more natural, so much better than Cin’s cloying gardenias, he murmured, “My head’s so full of you, there’s no room for anybody else.”
She laughed, and turned toward his mouth. “Smooth.” He captured her lips in his, and knew in the way she yielded that their weird little moment was over. Her breath tickling his lips, she whispered, “You should know that I always got bad marks in sharing.”
He turned her in his arms and clutched her chest to him. “So did I, baby.”
~oOo~
The first night bonfire, when everyone was feeling energized for the coming show, and happy to be reunited with old friends, was a riotous affair. Isaac had found himself . . . distracted as Lilli stood in the camper and changed from shorts to jeans, so by the time they got to the fire, Isaac carrying a cooler full of beer, the fire was in full, glorious burn, and people were deep into their cups. This park had a lake and swimming beach, and the bonfire was set up not too far away, so there were some swimmers, clad and not, in the water as well.
There were always musicians in the mix, usually of the folk variety; this night, three people had guitars, someone had a fiddle, and someone else had a set of hand drums. Joints and bags of mushrooms were passed freely, as was beer and booze. Bonfire. Folk music. Artsy types. Booze and drugs. Isaac would never hear the end of it from his brothers if they saw how much he loved this hippy shit.
Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) Page 20