by Danica Avet
She doesn’t say anything for several minutes, although she slowly relaxes, her arms slipping around my waist to hug me. With her cheek on my chest, her sweet warmth sinking into me, I’m about as content as a guy could be. Well, content as I can be with a rock hard cock.
“You’re saying you’re scared, too,” she whispers into my pec, her breath a warm caress.
My knee jerk reaction is to deny any kind of fear. I’m a dude. We don’t like to admit feeling fear. It’s unmanly. But this is too fucking important to me to fuck it up by playing the macho man.
Sighing, I straighten enough to look down at her. “Yeah,” I rasp, very aware of her bare skin under my palms. “You know—” I clear my throat, not wanting to bring my past up, but if I’m going to have something with her, I can’t hide anything.
That isn’t how a relationship should work. Yeah, maybe my dad didn’t fuck around as much as me before he married Mom, but he’s messed up a few times in their thirty-year marriage. Not cheating or anything, but he’s done shit that upset Mom, or hurt her feelings. He manned up though, did his time in the dog house, and made it up to her by never repeating his mistakes. They love each other which means they fight and make up, their bond stronger than ever.
I realize that’s what I want with Jolene.
“I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time,” I finally say. “By choice. Looking back, I think—no, I know I was an idiot.” Staring into her eyes, I tell her what scares me the most. “I didn’t want to open myself up to being hurt the way I was with Racine, didn’t want to experience the same hurt Nonc Tony did. So, I fucked around. A lot.” Her lips twist with distaste, a feeling I share. “I’m sorry for that,” I whisper. “I’m bringin’ a bad rep to the table, Jolene, but I swear I want to do things right with you. I want what we have to be about more than sex, more than fucking, because I want everything with you.” I kiss the tip of her cute little nose. “I can’t change my past, although I would if I could, but I can be the kind of man you deserve in the future.”
She lowers her eyelashes, but not before I see a sheen of tears.
Shit, she’s not supposed to cry. “What? C’mon, Peaches, surely I’m not that bad,” I joke half-heartedly because maybe I am and she’s going to tell me the only thing she wants from me is my di—
“I’m not good enough for you,” she says softly.
What? I shake my head. “That’s fucking crazy.”
But she puts her fingers to my lips to shush me. “No, listen to me, please.”
I don’t like it. She’s too good for me. Hell, I don’t even know how many of my cousins told me that, but I let her have her say. “Fine,” I growl, tightening my hold on her just in case she gets the idea of putting space between us.
Her plush lips quiver for a second before she flattens them. “I told you how everyone treated me like I was trash ’cause I grew up in a trailer park, but that isn’t the whole truth.” Her gaze drops to my chin as though she can’t bear to look at me. “My mama… Well, it really goes back all the way to my great-great grandmother, but the Pickering women have never had good luck with men. I’m not sure why Daddy stayed with Mama as long as he did, but they never married and as soon as he found out—” She pauses, her throat rippling as though she’s choking on the words. “I’ve never told anyone the whole truth about me, Levi,” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek. “Please, please be someone I can trust.”
“Peaches,” I whisper, agonized by the pain on her face. “Baby, you can trust me, I swear.”
She nods, but she still won’t look at me. “I was in beauty pageants from the time I was a toddler until I um, until I was ten. Mama figured with my blonde hair and blue eyes, I’d be able to win, that I’d get a modeling contract or somethin’.” Her smile is wry and filled with disgust.
“I can see that,” I say quietly. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her shrug is dismissive. “I didn’t do anything to look this way. It’s not like I earned it. It’s just how I look. But Mama saw it as a chance for us to get outta Pepper Ridge, so off to the pageants we went. And I won. A lot. Wearing pretty little dresses and shoes fit for a princess. My older sister didn’t get toys she begged for ’cause Mama needed the money for the pageants or to travel to pageants. Delia hated me for that and I can’t blame her.” Her mouth twists with pain. “I… I loved those pageants,” she whispers. “’Cause when I was up there on the stage, I wasn’t Jolene Pickering anymore. I wasn’t the girl everyone whispered about. I wasn’t a whore, or the daughter of a whore, or whatever they said. I was a princess.”
Those motherfuckers. “Baby.”
“No, listen,” she says urgently, finally meeting my gaze. “When I was ten, I found out how I kept winning those pageants, why everyone called me and Mama and all my sisters whores. I saw her havin’ sex with one of the judges. I didn’t know what they were doin’ though and I freaked out and screamed.” She lets out a broken laugh, her tears falling faster. “I lost the pageant. Didn’t even place and we had to go home with nothin’ but some flowers and a sash. Mama never forgave me for that. The night we were in Indiana? I found out she’d been sleepin’ with a store owner for the dresses and shoes and I ruined her plans for gettin’ us outta Pepper Ridge. I swear I didn’t know. I thought the judge I caught her with was the only time. But after that fateful pageant I didn’t win on my own merit, I never competed in another. I couldn’t.” Her eyes are fierce and hard. “I thought maybe if I was good at somethin’ else I could get us out that way, so I started practicing my trumpet. But that kind of dirt doesn’t come off, Levi. It never mattered what I did, how well I played, or tried to make good decisions when it came to boys because in the end, I’m trash.
“I’ve been marked a whore from birth,” she says flatly. “Everyone knew it and they made sure I did too. All my boyfriends just wanted a turn at fresh meat and I was dumb enough to fall for their lines, dumb enough to think they could care for me even though I was a Pickering girl. They treated me the way everyone treated Mama and Delia, the way they’re gonna treat my little sisters, because that’s what we are. So you see, Levi? I’m not good enough for you.” Her chin wobbles, but she holds my gaze defiantly. “That’s the kind of girl you’re makin’ sweet promises to.”
Jolene
I can’t believe I told him everything. But how could I not? After he said all that about me being classy and ladylike, how he apologized for his past and offered to be a better man for me, I couldn’t let him go on thinking I’m nothing more than what I really am.
When I stripped to my undies, my only thought had been to show Levi how much I love him. If I gave myself to him, maybe he’d go from just wanting me to loving me back. Except now, I see I was falling into the same habits that’ve been the bane of my existence since I went through puberty: using my body as a means to gain love and approval.
And I wouldn’t have even realized what I was doing if it hadn’t been for his putting a stop to things. Then breaking my heart with his sweet words. About me. Me. And I cheapened my love for him by trying to seduce him into loving me back.
I hadn’t realized until just how trashy and manipulative I really am. I guess the apple didn’t fall as far from the tree as I’d hoped. And now I have to wait for him to decide how he’s going to let me go. If I know him as well as I think I do, he’ll be charming, try to let me down easy. Give me that little smir—
I yelp when Levi suddenly bends and slings me over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the backs of my thighs. “What are you doing?” Is he going to literally throw me out of his house? “At least let me get dressed before you kick me ou—” My words end in a shriek because I’m flying through the air, landing on his bed with an inelegant grunt.
My hair’s all in my face, my limbs sprawled like I’m making a snow angel, but when I manage to get myself situated, Levi’s braced over me. My breath catches. With him hovering over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world, I feel su
rrounded, protected. The melting heat in his dark eyes tells me I’m an idiot. Well, not an idiot—despite his bad boy reputation, Levi isn’t rude—more like silly for thinking he was letting me go anywhere.
But maybe that’s just wishful thinking because he doesn’t say anything for a long time. Just stares at me with those deep brown-black eyes, his face solemn and thoughtful. For once, there isn’t even a hint of lust in his expression. Which is unfortunate because his nearness has that warm tingle forming in my belly despite the seriousness of the moment.
“What am I gonna do with you?” he finally asks, sinking on top of me until we’re pressed from chest to thighs, although he doesn’t put all of his weight on me.
I want to tell him to just love me, but we’ve only been together for a week. Even I know that’s too soon to start talking about love and happy ever afters. It feels like longer though, like I’ve known him forever. Our friendship planted the seed for my heart to grow fond of him. And I truly do love him. It’s nothing like what I felt for my ex-boyfriends. Not even Josef. Because Levi knows everything about me. Everything, but instead of him throwing me out, he threw me on his bed.
“You have no idea how great you really are,” he finally says as I continue to I stare at him. “You’ve been dishonored and disrespected, but you’re still the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. You think you’re trash—and you’re gonna stop calling yourself that because you’re a fucking treasure, Jolene. You’re not your family. You’re not your past, or what other people think. You’re the girl who took care of a drunk stranger because it was the right thing to do, because your heart is bigger’n you are.” He dips down to brush his lips against mine, the soft touch stoking the fire in my veins. “You’re my girl. And I’m gonna keep you, Peaches.
“All those guys you dated? They threw you away because they wouldn’t have recognized a good thing if it bit them in the ass. But I see you, Jolene.” He kisses the tip of my nose again. “I see all of you, and it makes me love you even more.”
Oh. God. My heart races, my lungs can’t seem to get enough air and I can’t see him anymore because of the tears in my eyes. But I feel him as he kisses them away. I feel his body shift on the bed until he’s lying next to me, his arms tugging me into him, giving me a strong foundation to cling to as my entire world rocks and rumbles from his words.
He could be giving me a line. It’s happened before, but Levi doesn’t lie to get girls in bed. He doesn’t need to. Which can only mean he loves me. I don’t know what I did to deserve that love, but I’m selfish because I won’t give it up. I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep it.
Big hands stroke up and down my bare back, soothing me until I’m limp with exhaustion and happiness. “I l-love you,” I finally whisper against his shirt that’s grown wet with my tears. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much ’cause I—”
“It means fucking everything to me,” he cuts in harshly, his arm tightening around my shoulders. Resting my head over his heart, I listen to the fast, yet steady beat. “God, Peaches, you’re… Well, I should tell you now that we Cracchiolos are possessive and we don’t let go. It’s the Italian in us.”
Tilting my head back to see his face, I say, “I thought you said it was so watered down by coonass it’s almost nonexistent?”
He grins. “Almost doesn’t mean completely. I’m gonna guard you like the treasure you are.” His smile fades and his eyes grow serious. “So you’re stuck with me, Jolene.”
Snuggling closer, I sigh. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
We lie there quietly, holding each other and it’s perfect. Just perfect. After a while, he kicks off his shoes, letting them hit the floor without care, and reaches down to pull the comforter over my body.
“I should put your shirt on,” I murmur because I know we’re not doing anything sexual tonight.
But he just kisses the crown of my head. “Do you know the best night I ever had with a girl?”
His question is so unexpected, I stiffen. I don’t want to know about other girls. I mean, I know there have been a few—okay, a lot—but that doesn’t mean I need to know know about them.
Before I can tell him that, he says, “That night in Indiana when I fell asleep with you. I never slept with a girl before. I think that’s when I realized I was fallin’ for you because waking up with you in my arms was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Well, then. I relax into him once more. “Me too,” I whisper. “Me too.”
Levi
As I told her the night before, waking up with Jolene plastered to me is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Better even than music. She’s all soft and warm, her mostly bare body curled into mine. The early morning light streaming into the room makes her hair gleam like gold, the strands covering part of her face. Wanting to see her, I brush them away and feel all mushy and shit because how the hell had I resisted her for so long?
With her lips pursed and her eyes closed, she looks young and innocent. Nothing at all like a girl whose entire childhood and developing years were spent trying to disprove prejudices. When she said all that shit? Called herself a whore? I started calculating how much it would cost me to fly to Georgia and rain hell on all their heads. And her mama?
Fuck. I can’t imagine any mother treating her child like a cash cow and then blaming them after a traumatic experience. That’s fucked up in the extreme. How Jolene managed to come out of that town, and family, as sweet and compassionate as she is, I’ll never know, but I thank god that she did.
Knowing what dragons I need to slay helps some. I can’t fix her and I don’t plan to. What I can do though, is show her what she means to me. Which means I can’t fuck her until she understands what we are is permanent, that I’m not going to bail on her after I’ve had my fun. Considering the guys she’s been with—no, I don’t want to fucking know how many it was—and what they wanted from her, I doubt she’s actually been with anyone who cared whether she came or not. It was probably all about them getting off.
Until now. I’m not saying I’m the best lover in the world, but I’ve been with enough girls who’ve given me a pretty good idea how to please a woman. Hell, some of the older women I’ve fucked were more than happy to teach me a few things that’ve served me well. I’m not really worried about being able to make Jolene come, as long as I can anchor her in the now, and not let her start thinking about all the bullshit that came before.
No, the problem is going to be keeping my dick in my pants. I’m only human, after all. Touching, tasting, and making her come will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do. Pun intended. Hell, just thinking about it has my cock, morning wood and all, raring to go. I’ll probably come in my pants the minute I get my mouth on any part of her body. Which will be humiliating, but if that’s what it takes to make sure she knows I really do love her and want her happiness, I’ll do it.
My lips curl in a smirk. It’s a sacrifice I’ll gladly make as many times as it takes for her to understand I’m not going anywhere.
“Morning,” she mumbles, drawing my gaze.
Her eyes gleam at me from beneath droopy eyelids and she’s got a small smile on her face. “Morning, jolie blon,” I murmur, kissing her forehead.
Civilized, right? Her forehead is the safest place for my mouth because with her looking like that, I want to eat her up. Of course that thought leads me to all the places on her beautiful body I could taste, making my dick twitch with want.
“What’s that mean anyway? Wasn’t that the song we danced to?” she asks.
I begin drawing circles on her back with the tips of my fingers, reveling in the texture of her skin. “It means pretty blonde. I don’t speak as much Cajun French as Nana would like, but I can understand a lot of the words.” She shivers when my fingers find the dip of her spine, trailing up and down. Up and down. “Anyway, the song we danced to is about a pretty blonde who leaves the singer, moves in with another man, and how the singer decides there are lots
of other pretty blondes around.” I shrug casually, although my fingers slide to the small of her back, tracing the edge of her panties. “Not a romantic song, but it’s fun to dance to.”
Her face is flushed and primal satisfaction rises in me because I know she’s reacting to my touch. Deciding now’s as good a time as any to show her her pleasure means more to me than my own, I roll her to her back, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Keeping most of my weight to her side, I use my free hand to trace a new pattern on her ribs.
Her breath hitches. “Levi?”
“I love you,” I whisper, pressing a soft, sipping kiss to her lips.
That shy smile of hers is going to kill me. Sliding my hand up to cup her breasts, I find her nipple hard beneath the lace of her bra. The flush on her face has spread to the top of her chest. Testing her responsiveness, I pinch the tight peak and am rewarded by a soft whimper.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her. I repeat the light pinch and give her nipple a little tug and kiss her again, this time lingering. A swipe of my tongue over her lips gives me just a little sample of her flavor. “And you’re mine.”
Pulling back again, it’s to see her eyelids fluttering, her eyes a little dazed.
Wanting more of that look, I kiss her once more, except this time I slide my tongue inside her hot mouth and taste her completely. A groan works its way up my throat. She meets my thrust with a tentative lick, inciting me to advance. I massage her tit, finding her nipple again and again, flicking, pinching, and tugging on it until she’s arching up to meet my touch.
And all the while, we kiss. We’re making out the way I haven’t done with a girl in a long time. As though this is all we can do, we put everything we have into it. Her hands are in my hair, roaming over my shoulders, her legs shifting restlessly next to mine. I want her completely naked, her body open to mine.