Still carrying me, Dre walks in the high grassy area in the dunes, throwing a blanket onto the ground. “Will this do for some private displays of affection?”
“I’m not sure. Will I do since I’m not ‘hung like a horse?’ We could call Rory back if you want,” I joke, smirking at him, as he lays me down.
Lying down next to me, Dre trails his finger along the collar of my t-shirt and then glides it down over my breast. My nipple hardens at his touch. “No Pebbles, you are certainly all that I want … and certainly all woman.” Dre leans his head down and licks my nipple through my shirt, tugging it slightly with his teeth.
“I can’t believe you just put your mouth on this used, dirty shirt,” I remind him, giggling.
“You’re not killing this mood,” he scolds, continuing.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, staring at him.
“Nothing could keep my mouth and hands off of you, Pebbles,” Dre says.
“I really like when you say stuff like that,” I confess.
“What else do you like?” he questions, tugging gently on my nipple.
“Mmmmm, that,” I say.
Dre glances up at me, smiling. “You really like watching, don’t you, Baby?” I nod, feeling my face redden. “I love hearing what you like. It’s so hot. Tell me more.”
I shake my head, suddenly feeling nervous and vulnerable. “I just … I just like what you do to me.”
I have fantasies, many of them unfulfilled. I like to hear a man talk dirty to me, using sexy and even raunchy words, but using them myself feels off, odd, out-of-place. Dre excites me so much, arouses the very center of my sexual being. I want to be able to say and do anything with him. I just feel “naked” saying them.
Tracing my nipple with his fingers, he whispers in my ear, “We’ll do it together, watch together.” Dre flicks his tongue in my ear. “Do you want to do this with me?”
I do. I want to do everything with him—even what embarrasses and inhibits me. I want him to open me, fulfill all of my fantasies, one-by-one. “Yes Dre,” I moan.
“Keep watching and talking then, Kathryn,” he says as he lifts my shirt over my head. “Watch my every move and tell me what you like and how you like it.”
Dre kisses his way down my neck, while rubbing my nipple with the rough part of his palm. It ignites me, sending heat throughout my entire body. I can’t take my eyes off of him.
“Are you watching?” Dre asks, staring at me through heavy, hooded eyes.
“Yes,” I say, barely audible.
“Kathryn, talk to me,” he commands. “Do you like it?”
“Mmmm, yes Dre.”
“Yes, Dre what? What do you like?” he asks, taking my nipple into his mouth.
“I like it when you put your mouth on me,” I moan. Dre tugs and nibbles more on my nipple. “God, yes.”
“My mouth where?” Dre asks, while still pleasuring my nipple.
“I like when you lick and bite my nipples,” I groan, feeling my body’s heat skyrocket. The forbidden words feel freeing on my lips.
Dre moans against my breast, kneading and licking them together. “God, you’re so sexy. Everything. Your body, your words, everything.” Dre’s breathing increases as he works his way further down my stomach. “Watch me Kathryn, don’t take your eyes off me.”
Unbuttoning my pants, he stares at my body, his eyes dark and hungry. After he takes off my pants, Dre takes my hand and kisses my palm and sucks each of my fingers into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. I’ve never felt this level of want before. I’ve surpassed desire; Dre has become a need. Dre places my hand on my breast. “Show me what you like.”
I nod. “Don’t stop,” I say, spreading my legs further as I caress my own breast. “Keep going.”
“You can count on it,” Dre says, smiling as his fingers discover that the center of my arousal is ready for him. Beyond ready. He growls when his fingers enter me. My eyes flutter as his fingers flick over me. “Open your eyes, Pebbles. You don’t want to miss this.”
I lean up on my elbows, so I can stare into his eyes as he leans over and tastes me, using his tongue for my pleasure. It’s erotic and sensual, liberating and hot. Dre increases his pace as I move my hips to meet his rhythm—never taking my eyes from his. It’s perfect, purse bliss. Our connection is strong; my pleasure is building, yearning, needing. Abruptly, he stops, moving away from me.
“You’re not talking,” Dre says, grinning.
“Oh Dre … no … don’t stop,” I plead, rubbing my legs together.
“Kathryn, what do you want me to do?” he asks. I shake my head. Dre massages my legs, working his way back up my thighs. “You have to tell me what you want. I need to know what makes you … you … hot.” Dre’s fingers travel back into me. “Talk to me.”
I whimper with pleasure, coupled with fear. “You. You make me hot Dre. Everything you do,” I reply in sync to his finger’s movements. “Every way you touch me. It ignites me,” I say.
Dre stops, hands motionless, and says, “I only move when you talk.”
I groan, and say, “You make me feel things I’ve never dreamed of feeling before,” I admit, breathy and full of urgency. Dre’s mouth replaces his fingers. His tongue is intense pleasure, intimate and pure. “Like right now, I hate that every part of you isn’t touching me or inside of me,” I plead. Dre increases his pace, sending my body to the edge. “So please, please Dre. I can’t take anymore,” I beg, as I finally cry out with release. My body convulses in spasms that want him, need him.
“Oh fuck, Baby; that was intense,” Dre says, grabbing his shorts and rummaging through his pockets. Finding a condom in his wallet, he expertly rips it open and slides it down over himself.
“Well, you’re certainly getting your game back,” I tease.
“This game’s win-win,” he says, unbuttoning his pants. Dre’s hard, ready and reaching for me. I pull him down onto me; I need to feel him inside of me. “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he groans into my ear, as he enters me. My breath catches as he looks into my eyes. “So fucking incredible,” he breathes, as we lie motionless, together, staring at one another.
Slowly, I begin to rock, while his eyes are still locked on mine. “Incredible,” I echo, grabbing his arms, lifting up toward him. Dre’s movements match and surpass my own. “Harder,” I beg, thrusting against him, rocking to meet him. He wraps my legs around his waist and lifts his chest off of me. Staring down at me, his movements and speed increase; I meet him, push against him, rock harder, pulling him further into me until he cries out in pleasure, his body melding into mine.
I want to fucking destroy Rory. Mother fucker. First, he gives me Piper’s letter in front of Kathryn. Then, he mentions Brown. Christ, I wanted to kill him, still do. He knows; he fucking knows how important Kathryn’s becoming to me. I tell him everything—apparently too goddamn much. I can’t believe she didn’t try prying anything out of me. Kathryn was calm, collected, and patient. Man, I’ve never known a woman with those qualities before. Fucking A, she’s perfect.
Kathryn-Katie-McVay-Howell-Nerd-Loving-Pebbles is perfection. Alert the presses, stamp and seal it, write it in the sky, I’m falling for her. I’m trying not to, but she’s too damn irresistible. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, and she’s everything I didn’t know I wanted either. Hell, if I could tell her the truth and come clean about everything, and she still wanted me, then I’d marry her tomorrow. Women like Kathryn Howell don’t come around very often and if they do, then you certainly don’t let a gift like that slip through your fingers.
I’m going to tell her everything tonight; I have to. Otherwise, I’m going to get too far into this and pussy out. Right now, I know it’s going to crush me if she can’t handle the truth. If she wants out, wants to walk away, I’ll be gut-fucked. But I suppose it’s better to know now, than it would be to wait until I’m too far in over my head.
When I took Kathryn back to her apartment, she said that s
he’d love to see me tonight, and winked at me. I got hard just watching her do that, insinuate that there’s more fun coming our way. Fuck man, I’ve never had it this bad before—ever. Just thinking about her makes me horny as hell. I think for a while I thought I was in love with Waverly. Holy shit was I wrong. Nothing’s ever felt like this. Waverly’s like cough syrup to Kathryn’s fine wine.
As I approach her apartment door tonight, I can hear muffled voices inside. I knock, curious as to who is inside. Kathryn didn’t mention having anyone over tonight. When she opens the door, she smiles, but her face doesn’t light up. The smile looks forced, pained even.
“Hey Dre,” Kathryn says, not opening the door the whole way. “I really need to get your number. There’s been a slight change of plans.”
“Is that him?” comes a dude’s voice from inside. The door opens, and Theodore is staring at me. Oh Hell no. Not this guy again. Come on. “Sorry Dree, but Kathryn and I are kind of in the middle of something.” Did this mother-fucker just call me Dree? What the fuck? Nobody’s name is Dree.
“Theodore, don’t. I told you I had plans with Dre,” Kathryn says, emphasizing the correct pronunciation of my name.
“Kathryn, we need to talk. Make plans of our own,” Theodore confirms. “Listen Dre, why don’t you stop back some time tomorrow, and my girl here can fill ya in.”
His girl? “Uh Kathryn, what’s going on?” I say, looking away from Theodore, ignoring him completely.
“Theodore was on his way back from Atlanta and stopped here before going home … to Virginia,” she explains.
“Okay. So … what? Do you want me to leave?” I want to punch this fucker until the pain I’m feeling goes away.
“Listen Dre,” she says, pushing me out the door, closing it behind her. “You have to believe me; Theodore blindsided me. I had no idea he was coming.”
“What the fuck is that?” I ask, grabbing her left hand, feeling like I was just beaten in the stomach with a two-by-four. “Don’t answer that. I know goddamn well what that is. So that’s it? You were just ‘slumming’ for a bit until he came back? That’s just great. Fuck this.” I punch the wall; my fist goes straight through the drywall. I feel nothing. Physical pain is for pussies. Emotional pain kicks physical pain’s ass.
“Dre wait!” Kathryn yells. I don’t even turn around. Fucking bullshit. I’ve seen and heard enough. “Stop! Please!” she screams as I go through the door into the stairwell.
“Come inside honey,” Theodore says, “let him go.” The door closes, and I don’t hear her response—or fucking care.
Goddamn huge-ass diamond on her hand. Are you kidding me? What was I? Leverage to get the douchebag to finally fucking propose? Ammunition to fire at him to get him to do what she was waiting for all along? What-the-fuck-ever. I don’t need this shit.
Out on the street, there’s only one place that I can go, only person who I can talk to right now. I head over to the Oasis. Lanette will know what to say to make this feeling in my gut get the Hell out. I cannot believe I couldn’t see this for what it was—a ploy to land the “nerdy” guy she wanted all along. Goddamn it. I shouldn’t have gotten off course, changed paths, just because my dick wanted to come out and play. Christ. I knew better. Know better.
As soon as I walk in, Lanette says, “Oh no Sugar, what’d you do?”
I sit down at the bar, shake my head, and say, “Not until I’ve had a shot of Beam.” Lanette goes behind the bar, pours me a shot, and hands it to me. I down the shot, tapping it twice on the bar. “One more,” I nod toward the glass. She refills it.
“Start talking Dre,” she says. I tell her the whole story.
When I finish, I tap the glass again, she grabs it, and says, “So what’d she say when she telled you to ‘stop?’ Did she ‘splain everything?”
“I didn’t stop. I fucking walked out the door and down the steps,” I explain, reaching for the glass. Lanette jerks it out of my reach.
“Dre, yous as dumb as yous is pretty. How could you not listen to what that sweet thing wanted to say?” she asks, smacking me in the head. “I seen the way she looks at you. That ain’t game-play. She’s honey-suckered smitten with you, Sugar.”
“Lanette, weren’t you listening? She had a goddamn diamond on her finger. A fucking shiny-ass boulder,” I said, pounding my head on the bar. “Just fill the shot glass … please.”
“Yas need ta listen to her. Go back and hear her out,” Lanette scolds.
“No, I’m done. I shouldn’t have gotten started in the first place. I’m just gonna drown my pain. Hand me that bottle, please,” I ask. “You know I love you. You’re the only one I could come to for this. So give me the bottle.”
“Ain’t no amount of sweet-talking gonna get ya this bottle,” Lanette says, moving it to the shelf above her head.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, turning around I recognize a busty redhead from being at the bar over the summer. “Dre?”
“Yeah?”
“I was listening to your story. That chick sounds like a total bitch. I’ll buy you a shot. Miss Lanette, get my friend, Dre here a shot,” she says, running her hand through the back of my hair.
“Sorry Darling, I’m not serving Dre anything more tonight,” Lanette explains, glaring at me.
The girl scoffs, and whines, “Come on Dre, let’s go somewhere else.” As she’s tugging my arm, I want to tell her to go away, that I’m not interested, and that I just want to be alone.
But more than I want to say those things; I want the pain in my chest to go away, so I can forget about Kathryn Howell. Releasing all rationality, I ask, “Sure Honey, where to?”
“My apartment is right around the corner,” she coos, running her tongue along her top lip. And just like that, I’m back to being the asshole that I’ve been trying to overcome this past year. Goddamn Kathryn Howell.
As we get up to go, the redhead says, “By the way, I’m—”
“No. Don’t go there. I don’t even want to know,” I say, cutting her off.
Shrugging, she giggles and says, “Whatever turns you on, handsome, and I mean whatever … you … want.”
Man, I hope this helps. I need to shake this feeling. This kind of pain can’t be natural. People can’t possibly endure this sort of torture on a regular basis.
Walking to the door, she has her tongue in my ear and her hand on my ass just as the door opens and someone walks in. Kathryn. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“Seriously?” Kathryn says, taking a deep breath. Kathryn walks right up to “whatever her name is” without as much as a second look at me.
“I’m sorry, Sweetie. Dre screwed up tonight and made some really really bad choices,” she explains as if she’s talking to a toddler about another petulant child, putting her arm around the girl and leading her toward the door.
Continuing, she says, “I’m gonna need to take him home. You need to run along now.” Kathryn glares at me and rolls her eyes again.
“Oh I don’t think so,” the redhead says, crossing her arms over her chest like an obstinate preschooler, refusing to go any further.
“I found him first!” the redhead exclaims, stomping her foot for effect. Kathryn begins to laugh hysterically at her, covering her mouth in the process.
I glance down at Kathryn’s hand; there’s no ring on it. I look back at her, and she scowls at me, shaking her head. Needing to get to the bottom of this, I say, “Umm yeah, Kathryn’s right, I really need to get home.”
“I was going to do things to you that you wouldn’t even comprehound?” she whines.
Still laughing in disbelief, Kathryn says, “Comprehound?”
“Yeah ‘comprehound,’ it means ‘understand,’ skank,” the redhead says.
“Skank? Oh Honey, you have no idea,” Kathryn says, patting her on the arm, condescendingly.
“Stop calling me ‘Honey.’ I’m not your honey. My name’s Amber,” she sulks, crossing her arms in a huff.
“I’m sure it
is, Amber. I’m sure it is,” Kathryn says. “Ya know, to this day, I’ve never met an Amber who wasn’t slutty or stupid.”
Amber’s eyes light up, “So I’m the first one?”
Lanette walks over and hands the redhead a tall drink, and says, “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone, I have someone you need to meet.” As Lanette leads the girl away from us to “Levi the Lush,” she looks at me and whispers, “Don’t blow it.”
“Kathryn, what’re you—”
“Not here,” she says, cutting me off. “Let’s go outside, go for a walk.”
Once we’re outside and out of earshot from onlookers, Kathryn says, “All this storming off when things don’t go the ‘Dre-way’ are gonna need to stop. I’m not gonna spend every minute running after you, Dre.” I lean up against the wall, bracing my foot against it for balance.
“What’re you doing here, Kathryn? Where’s Theodore?” I ask, not looking at her.
“Finding you. And he’s probably on 26 West heading home by now,” Kathryn explains. I still can’t look at her, because all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and kiss her until dawn. “Dre, what you think you saw and what was actually happening were two totally different things.”
“So I didn’t see your ex-boyfriend in your apartment, on the same day we had sex all day? And I didn’t see nearly a 1-carat diamond on your hand? Oh yeah, you’re right; I must be blind,” I say, storming away.
“Holy shit, are you a fucking baby?” she screams after me.
I stop. Turn around, and say, “I thought you didn’t swear Kathryn or is that just another one of your lies?” My hypocrisy is astounding.
“No, that is exactly what you think you saw. But that is not what happened, Dre,” Kathryn said, grasping my shoulders. “Theodore came over. He delivered those same lines that he gave on his way down to Georgia. But this time, he knelt down, pulled out a ring, and then put it on my finger.”
“Well congratulations, I’m sure you’ll be fucking happy together,” I growl, turning away from her.
Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) Page 13