by Dani Wyatt
“No. I’m not hurt.” She softens under my touch with a gentle shake of her head. That illusion of a halo swirls around her head again and I feel parts of me tighten and harden. Both inside and out. No girl has ever made me instantly hard but I’m nearing full throttle, and I’m suddenly happy I wore one of my loosest pairs of jeans. “Just, please, who did this?” If it’s a dude, I’m going to find him and feed his balls to him. If it’s those girls, unfortunately it won’t be so cut and dry.
I inch forward, breathing deep, watching her for clues she’ll open up to me.
Her eyes reach inside me and latch on. Their golden-green reminds me of a field, dappled with wildflowers. I don’t know her name yet, but that word becomes the hook on which I hang all her beauty. Wildflower. That’s what she is. I saw it the first time downstairs. She’s not like other girls. There’s an untamed nature about her. Like she’s not part of this world. She doesn’t belong here with the rest of us heathens.
Her eyes regard me for a long moment as I hold her face in my hands, and I feel her melt, her lips falling open and a sighing breath sweeps warmth over my thumbs. I can’t help but lean down trying to breathe in her exhale.
“Amanda invited me over.” She adjusts the grip on the top of her shirt and sways a little, tucking her chin down and pulling away from my hands. “I should have known better.”
I look toward the left, then tip my head that direction. “Come over here, there’s a bench, you should sit.” She shakes her head but I’m already guiding her, dropping my hands to replace one into the curve of her back. “Take my jacket, it’s cold.” I lower her onto the bench, then take a seat beside her, stripping out of my jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders then settling my hand on her forearm. “Now, please, tell me what happened, okay?”
She stiffens and retreats, her body hinging on her seat, twisting away to stare me down with the defensive glare that keeps coming and going. I feel empty when she moves away, and I have to swallow hard to ignore the stabbing pain in my fingers where I was touching her.
“You can’t do anything. Don’t tell anyone.” The tiger is back, each word sharp and clipped.
“I won’t, I promise.” My hands go to her shoulders, turning her half into me and pulling her into a side-hug, looking down so I can still see her face. “Amanda invited you over, okay, got that, then what?” I drape an arm around her shoulders, saying a silent prayer she allows it to stay.
She pulls her lips to the side, deciding if I’m the enemy or not. Her chest rises with a deep breath and I count the seconds. I imagine my lips on hers – they are the perfect shade of deep pink, the lipstick smeared there fading away. A touch of her tongue on the top and bottom lip has me entranced.
The throbbing in my cock is making it difficult to concentrate. I grit my teeth, thinking of my hands on her body. It’s absolutely perfect, adorned with soft full curves and an ample top that balances perfectly with an even more heavenly bottom. She’s made for a firm grip and if I have any say, it’s going to be mine because the thought of even another dick-swinging asshole looking her way would have me breaking necks.
“I’ve gone to school there for like a month. That’s where I met Amanda. I mean, my family’s lived here since before I was even born, but I was always home schooled until the state changed some regulations and my parents weren’t able to keep up with the curriculum.” She pauses with something like a smile and I’m rapt. “So I had to enroll to graduate, or just get my GED which I didn’t want to do, or they were going to get in trouble with the state. I was so happy; I’d begged to go to school forever. It was nice, being around other kids. Even though, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I’m not sure what it is about me, I just don’t quite fit.” She shakes her head again, biting her lip before continuing, her eyebrows coming together, one arching upward as the other goes down. “Why am I telling you all this?”
“Because I asked and you like me.” I nudge her with my body trying to lighten the moment. “That’s their loss.” I pinch a strand of her hair in my fingers and I so badly want to bring it to my nose and breathe her in, but she’s still a scared doe and I want her to feel safe so I fight off the urge. Lots of urges actually. “What else? So they invited you over, but I saw you downstairs and you didn’t look like this. So something happened.”
An exasperated sigh puffs from those perfect, lush lips. Lips like that were made for many things and all of them are raging around in my head like my own private porn. “Yeah, well, see, in choir, we had this song competition the other day.” Her words tumble out faster, more excited and I love that she’s spilling this to me. “And I’ve never sung in front of anyone. Okay, my mom and my best friend a couple times.” She flutters a hand and those eyebrows go up and down again. “Anyway, the teacher, Mr. Wheeler, said we all had to do it. Amanda has a beautiful voice, truly beautiful, there’s no other way to describe it, and everyone clapped and told her how amazing she was.” She takes a breath. “Then it was my turn, I don’t even remember a second of it. I was petrified and all those faces staring at me. But when I was done, the room went silent. I stood there like a statue. But then the rest of the choir, I don’t know, they just started clapping and cheering and saying that my voice was beautiful. Then incredible. ‘Stunning’ the choir director said. No one has ever used that word to describe anything about me before.”
They should.
Another breath and she looks up and down the street. There is no sign of headlights and I’m secretly praying her dad is caught at the railroad tracks behind a three-mile train. Because her voice actually is beautiful, and I want to listen to her talk all night. Every word has a direct connection to my raging hard-on and if she says anything even remotely sexy, I’m going to spurt in my jeans like a fourteen-year-old finding his first Playboy.
“Beautiful,” I mutter, echoing her word, then take a breath feeling the warmth from her body against mine. The thumping of blood as it decides the only place it wants to be is filling my cock until it hurts. “I mean, I’m sure your singing voice is beautiful. It matches the rest of you, Wildflower.” Even in the dim light I see red rise in her cheeks and I want to see that over and over. Her eyebrows dance again and I want to kiss them. She’s so soft and so expressive, unique and uninhibited in her own innocent way.
She gives me a puzzled look, then shakes her head a little and continues with a nervous speed in her voice.
“So after choir, I thought Amanda would be mad, but she congratulated me and then invited me over. Said they were having a girls’ night. Doing makeovers and stuff. I mean, they are the popular girls and I thought this was my chance for the whole high school experience. My best friend Katie told me not to come. But, that’s why I wanted to go to school, right? So I said yes. But then, when they got me upstairs, they started pulling at my hair and piling this makeup on. One of them was taking pictures and posting them online. Talking about Facebook and Snapchat, and I’m just learning about all of it. Then I told them to stop, and Amanda grabbed my shirt. I guess the tag was hanging out of the back and they held me and took pictures of the size. Then they wrote on me with lipstick and eyeliner, and they were all drinking beer,” she’s talking so fast, the words tumbling out over and on top of each other, “and they poured it on me and now my father is going to come completely unglued.”
She lifts a strand of her hair to her nose and sniffs, then gulps, breathing hard. “I don’t know what they had planned if I didn’t get out of there. I told my father I was coming here to study. And even when I told him that he said no at first. I had to beg, told him I had this big group project.” She stops and looks up at the sky, tapping the toes of her black, flat shoes onto the grass under the bench, her skirt barely giving a hint of skin above her ankles. Skin that’s calling for my mouth because that’s how I want to discover her. Lips and tongue and kisses until I memorize every inch.
Clouds are roaming over the stars and she tips her head to the side and watches them. When she starts talki
ng again, her voice barely sneaks to my ears, like this part of the story isn’t for me. “He said no, but it’s my birthday, so I asked if it could be my birthday present. That he would let me come. I should have known better... he went into a rage, started telling me that birthdays are no excuse for disobedience. But my mom convinced him, and he surprised me by saying I could go. I promised him nothing would happen. I’m eighteen tonight.”
The quiver in her voice tugs hard at my heart. I’d never hit a woman, but I sure as shit am going to have a talk with those cunts. I can’t help myself – I wrap her in my arms and pull her as tight to my chest as I can without cracking her. The feel of her soft lines against my tense, hard muscles springs another inch upward in my cock.
We sit that way for a long moment; the night is quiet and my heart is beating in my ears. Leaves are blowing slowly near the curb every now and then when the fall wind picks up. She smells like dreams and lilacs. For a second I imagine her naked and laying on a bed of violet pillows, her jet black hair laying out, cascading in waves on the linen, the contours of her body on display only for me.
I choke on the thought, clear my throat and blink at the sky, asking for control.
“People can suck. But I’ll make you a deal.”
“A deal? Why would I want to make a deal?”
“Just humor me. If I can make you smile, you’ll tell me your name and where you live so I can come check on you.”
It’s stupid, but I want her to agree. I’m sure she would tell me her name if I asked but I want more for some reason. And I want to see her smile.
“I’m not much on smiling tonight.”
“Let’s just start the night over, right now.” I loosen my hug giving her room to think.
Her eyes hint at her doubt but she doesn’t say no, so I take that as a yes.
“Okay, here it goes.” I’m as nervous as I’ve ever been. I let her go, shift on the bench and rise to my feet hoping the darkness helps cover the fullness in the front of my jeans.
I need her smile like I need my next breath. Thoughts are churning in my head, trying to think of what to do or what to say that will make her happy. Trying to be funny when the pressure is on is harder than I thought.
I only get one shot at this, so I stiffen my back and clear my throat, my ego tucked neatly away in my front pocket, I speak. “I took ballet lessons from the time I was five until I was eight.”
No one knows that, not even Derrick. My mom had a thing for Baryshnikov and I was the recipient of her vicarious ballet interest for those few years. Funny thing was, I was sort of good at it.
Her eyebrows tell me I’m on the right track as they cock and raise at the cutest angles. But she doesn’t give up the smile so easily. “That’s it?”
“No, this is.” I straighten my back, bow my arms in front of me. Now I’m standing at my full six feet, four inches and every point of my two hundred and sixty pounds is centered in my heels nearly toppling me back on my ass as I spread my toes out at an angle.
But I forge ahead, the little sparkle in her eyes more than enough encouragement. Without another word, I set one foot up on my toes, arch my hands over my head and do a perfect plie, do the best arabesque I can manage, then follow that up with a pirouette where I nearly fall over. My football body strains as I finish up with an unsophisticated bow.
A second later, my utter humiliation pays off. She not only smiles, but I hear the musical laughter of this perfect creature that makes my heart ache. The sound sinks her hooks down inside of me so far that I know right then and there she is meant to be part of my life forever.
Her one hand still grips at her shirt as the other reaches up to cover her mouth and stifle her laughter. But there is no way she is hiding my smile. I earned it and I want it lighting up my soul.
I step forward, reaching out to pull her hand from her mouth so I can absorb every bit of my smile.
“That was...something.” She clicks her tongue in her cheek with a snap. “You made me smile, so my name is Talia. Talia Fielding. I live on Highway Three. Way out past the Lincoln Factory. If you’ve lived around here, it’s the house everyone says is haunted. That house.” She leans over in another fit of laughter, and I think out of all the accomplishments in my life, this tops the list. “That was perfect.” She manages between the fit of girlish giggles, and kicking her feet playfully in the grass. I noticed her simple black loafers and love how every unique part of her.
I settle my egoless ass down on the bench, eager to get her next to me and I’m relieved that when I put my arm around her she leans into me. Touching her feels right. My usual aversion to this kind of contact nowhere to be found. I breathe in the cool night air as it tangles with her seductive wildflower scent.
“If you were mine, I’d tell you every day how perfect you are, just exactly the way you are.”
The moment the words leave my lips she stops mid-breath. A stiffness covers her, and I wait in fear that I’ve pushed too far too fast.
“This is such a strange night,” she whispers, and it sounds like she’s talking to herself.
What I do next is instinct. I didn’t think first, I just leaned in, my mouth covering hers and I’m tasting her lips. The softest, sweetest flavor known to man lights up inside me and spins the world under my feet. I squeeze her shoulder, hoping I can keep her from disappearing. Greed fills me and I want so much more than just this kiss, but right now I’d take kissing her forever over an eternity without her.
She’s frozen for the first moment, and I wonder if she’s ever kissed anyone before. My thoughts turn to how innocent she is. How pure I think she is. For me.
I turn my head, deepening my access with a moan in my throat and gently glide my tongue over her bottom lip, feeling the lush fullness and the flavor of cherry soda. My cock can’t take it. I drip cum, nearly choking on the intensity of these sensations and she gently pulls back, her eyes on mine like I’ve just given her something so confusing she’s not sure if she should be horrified or thankful.
Then, it hits me like a wrecking ball.
I’m leaving tomorrow.
How could this happen now? Tonight? I’ve gone my entire life without meeting anyone that even drew a second look from me, and now I’m about to enter into a contract that has me half way across the world and she walks into my life and changes everything. I didn’t just kiss her, I marked her.
The thought of her mouth smiling or laughing or, my God, kissing anyone else would kill me. It’s like she was born for me. All my wicked desires saved up just for her.
What the kind of mind fuck is this?
Two pinpoints of headlights turn onto the street where it intersects the main road. Panic clutches my throat. It may or may not be her father, but I can’t take the chance.
“Listen.” It hurts but I let her go, reaching inside my pockets for a pen and the receipt from the grocery store where I stopped for the six pack I gave Derrick. “Please, I’m begging you.” I sound as desperate as I feel and I don’t care. “What’s your number? I want to call you later and be sure you’re okay.”
Her eyes widen and the hand that is not holding her shirt closed cups over her mouth with a vigorous shake of her head.
The engine sound on the approaching vehicle draws her eyes. The muffler is loud and she’s on her feet with a look of panic on her face. She tosses my jacket onto the bench, her eyes wild, still shaking her head. She’s spooked, and it’s clear that she doesn’t want to be seen with me. I don’t care about that, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she doesn’t walk out of my life.
“Please.” I don’t hide the desperation in my voice.
“I can’t. I don’t have a phone. Just the house phone and you can’t call me there. That’s my father coming, I have to go.” She starts to step away, back toward the front gate to the estate.
“Then here.” I scribble my number and my email address and shove it at her. I’m losing her, I can feel it, and I’m as desperate as a drowning man.
“Send me an email. Just something. Please.”
The truck is nearing and she speeds her steps forward. I sprint behind her.
“Go away! You should go away, please, he’ll only be angrier if I’m with you and he’ll think it was a boy that did this. You will just make it harder, please.” She’s nearly whimpering and I hate everything right now.
I tuck the receipt into the back pocket of her skirt before she gets away. She looks at me one last time, her hand pushing into the pocket to feel what I’ve placed there. I lunge back behind the oak tree. Pressing my back into the rough bark trying to swallow the sadness that’s engulfing me. A moment later, she’s out in the street waving a hand at the truck and leaving me on my own, with cum in my pants and a heart that never had a chance.
C H A P T E R F O U R
GRIFFIN
“I can’t believe you’ve been gone almost three months already. Nice scenery on my way here I might add.” Derrick bobs his eyebrows and we both know he’s not talking about the Berlin Wall. “Uhhh, hey, your mom told me to hug you for her.” Derrick plops down on the small black IKEA fold-out sofa which also doubles as his guest bed. He’s here for a visit and I’m happy to see him, but for some reason it just makes me think of her more.
He’s passing through on his way to a family skiing trip in the Alps, and that’s fine; he has his life to live. He’ll spend the night here, then off to the glamorous parts of Europe tomorrow. I’m not much for long term company right anyway.
My head is still back home, to tell the truth. I mean, the job is going well, I like it and I’m overachieving there as usual. Anything outside of the distraction of work makes me feel empty and Derrick only reminds me of where I want to be. Which is about four thousand fucking miles back west and wherever she is.