“I see my bad influence is rubbing off on you.”
“Would you rather I answer it so they can tell me to come home on my last night?”
Dylan’s smile flattened, and his eyes searched my face as though he was trying to memorize my every feature. I studied him as well, taking in his bright green eyes, strong jawline and full lips. I could not believe I was in his arms, after daydreaming about him for three years. Everything about our time together seemed surreal, and I knew once I left for school, it would be surreal—a dream from a time in my life where I came alive. My own smile disappeared as I wondered how long it would take him to forget our time together. Come tomorrow night would he be entertaining a new girl, taking her fishing and mud wrestling? It was very hard to remember that he could do whatever he wanted. We were not dating and probably never would. Our time was a fantasy that reality would crush tomorrow.
“Why the pouty face?”
I hadn’t realized I was zoning out, lost in my thoughts. “I’m not pouting.”
Dylan leaned forward and sucked my bottom lip in between his. My eyes wide, my heart thudding in my chest, I suppressed the moan in my throat and the heat it had created between my legs.
“I couldn’t resist,” Dylan said, setting me down. “It was just out there, teasing me with its cuteness.”
Shaking my head and laughing to myself, I swept my eyes over the field. “So, what are we doing tonight? Playing hide-n-seek in the tall grass? Night fishing? Catching frogs?” I arched a quizzical brow, excited to see what sort of crazy idea he had.
Dylan grabbed my hand, and together we walked to the back of his truck. He dropped the tailgate and grasped my waist in both hands, hoisting me up into the bed of his truck. As soon as I was settled, Dylan hopped up and joined me. Walking over, he grabbed the stack of blankets and began laying them out like a makeshift bed. My lips parted, and my heart jumpstarted with nervousness. When the last blanket was down, Dylan looked over at me and grinned.
“Why do you look like you just discovered I’m an axe murderer?” When he noticed my eyes were glued to the blankets, he said, “Brooke, I just thought we could spend your last night talking and enjoying the stars. I didn’t bring you out here to for anything else, I promise.”
I wasn’t scared like he assumed. I was actually … excited. I spent a lot of time thinking about what had happened between us last night. I knew had he not stopped, I would have gladly handed over my virginity to Dylan Crawford.
“It’s not …” I stopped, deciding not to mention where my mind was. “That sounds nice.”
With a small smile, Dylan reached for my hand, and together we knelt down to the bed of his truck, slowly lowering our bodies into a lying position. Dylan stretched his arm out so that I could rest my head on it. Tucking his other arm behind his head, we stared up at the star encrusted night sky. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, releasing it as my body relaxed against his.
“Are you excited about school starting?”
I watched the twinkling stars, imagining a universe where I was my own person and not under the thumb of my parents. At Dylan’s question, I lifted my chin to look at his face. He stared up at the sky, his eyes crinkling as though thinking about something.
“I’m excited to live on my own. It’ll be nice to get away from my parents.”
Dylan murmured his agreement, his fingers brushing my bare shoulder. Music from the cab of the truck floated out of the open windows and filled the night air.
“Going from a mansion to a tiny dorm won’t be easy.”
I frowned, almost embarrassed to tell him about my new apartment. I knew how hard Dylan and Jase worked just to afford their own, and my daddy had just given me one. It was no wonder people thought I was a spoiled bitch.
“Um … well actually … Lily and I will have an apartment,” I said, peeking up at Dylan. “I’m sure it won’t be much bigger than the dorm, though.” I don’t know why I added that last part … maybe so Dylan wouldn’t judge me.
“Cool.” Dylan’s voice was flat as though he had already suspected as much.
Deciding to change the subject, I said, “I saw a guitar in your room. Do you play?”
Dumb question. Why would he have a guitar if he didn’t play it? I remember getting excited over seeing it, thinking he might love music as much as I do.
“Sometimes, but not as much as I used to. I mainly pick it up when I need to escape my mind, ya know?”
I nodded, a small smile on my face. I debated telling him that I also played, wrote, and sang, but it wasn’t something I told a lot of people.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you play an instrument?”
“Yeah, the piano and the guitar.”
I felt him shift and looked up to find him staring at me. “Really? Those dainty little fingers know how to play the strings?” He lifted my hand, running his thumb over my fingers as though inspecting them for callouses.
“They’re not dainty,” I retorted, “and I’ve been playing since I was fourteen.”
“So you must be pretty good, huh?”
I shrugged, a smug smile on my face. Obviously hearing someone like me could play the guitar had shocked him. I almost wished I had a guitar, so I could prove that I could play. Something told me Dylan thought I played around with it, pretending to play.
“I’m okay,” I said instead, going for modesty. “I don’t play as much as I used to.”
“What kind of music do you play?”
“Why do I feel like you’re interrogating me?”
Dylan laughed, leaning toward me and placing a kiss on my head as though entertaining a child’s crazy idea.
“Is that how it feels?” Dylan asked. “I didn’t mean for it to. I think it’s cool you play the guitar. Maybe we can jam sometime.”
I laughed imaging what that would be like. “Do you write songs?” If he said yes then I was going to die because it’d solidify how absolutely perfect he was for me.
“No, why, do you?”
I shrugged, not wanting to answer the question. Dylan took it as confirmation and sat up, pulling me with him. His eyes searched my face as though he was trying to imagine what a girl like me could possibly write about. He probably thought all of my songs were about having too much money or fancy cars and clothes.
“So,” Dylan said, tilting his head, “that means you sing, too, right?”
I hated myself for broaching this topic. “Yeah, I sing. It’s my favorite and pretty much only hobby,” I told him. “But I don’t sing in front of people.”
“Stage fright?”
“No, it’s not that,” I said, wishing we were talking about something else. “My songs are … personal. Some girls have diaries; I have songs.”
Dylan gave me a small smile. “You keep surprising me, Brooke Kingsley. And finding out you play guitar and sing just made you even sexier.”
Of course his confession made me blush. Dylan smiled and scooted toward the back of his truck. He leaned back and spread his legs, a smirk on his face.
“Come here.” He patted the space between his legs. I scooted over, making sure my dress didn’t come up and show anything—not that Dylan hadn’t seen me last night. I leaned against his chest, tilting my head to the side so my hair wasn’t in his face. His arms came around my waist, clasping his hands on my stomach.
“This is nice,” I said, taking in the night. Fireflies blinked along the tall grass, and a slight breeze caressed my face.
“Brooke?”
“Hmm?” I murmured, lost in relaxation from the warmth of Dylan’s body and the peacefulness of music-infused night.
“I …” He cleared his throat, and I tilted my head back to look up at him.
“What?”
A thin-lipped smile creased his lips and he shook his head. “I just wish I would have approached you sooner. I hope you have a blast at school and learn to let your guard down a little and have fun.” His hand came up, and his thumb brushed my lower
lip, his eyes tracing the motion. “You’re beautiful, but when you smile, your eyes light up, and you’re even more amazing. You should show the world that side of you more.”
My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I had to look away. Dylan tightened his arms around my waist and leaned his head against mine. Closing my eyes, I willed the tears away and tried to memorize this moment. My time with Dylan had been so simple, but it meant more to me than all the fancy dates James had taken me on. I thought about his instructions and wondered if I was capable of smiling and letting go without him. He was the one who brought it out in me, and once I left for school I would go back to being the girl I had always been—boring and predictable. I still didn’t know what Dylan found interesting in me, but I’m happy he did.
My head fell, and my eyes snapped open. It took me a moment to realize where I was and what had happened. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I checked on Brooke and noticed she was asleep, too. How long had we been sleeping? The sky was still dark, which was a good sign, but Brooke’s parents were probably freaking out. My back had a cramp in it from sitting against the hardness of my truck, but I couldn’t make myself move. I wanted to cradle Brooke a little longer, watch her sweet face as she slept. Plus, I knew once I took her home that was it for us, she would be gone. By the time she came back home for winter and summer break, she could have found someone else and forgotten all about me.
I chuckled to myself when the song “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain came over the radio. I used to make fun of Dana for liking this song, saying the dude was a chick. But as I listened to the lyrics for the first time ever, all of a sudden it felt as though it had been written just for Brooke and me. Who’s the chick now, douche?
I rested my head against the rear window, staring up at the sky. Something was seriously wrong with me. Not only was I obsessing over the fact that Brooke was leaving, but I wanted to scream at the universe for taking her from me. She’s not yours, Dylan.
Brooke stirred in my arms, turning sideways to snuggle closer to me. I groaned when she brushed against my dick. My grunt must have woken her because she tilted her held up and smiled sheepishly, sitting up.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay.” I watched her run her fingers through her hair even though it wasn’t messy. She swiped a hand under her eyes and looked at me over her shoulder. She stole my breath and captured my focus with how pure and sweet she was. I knew underneath all those prim and proper layers was a lively girl just waiting to discover herself. I wondered who that girl would be and what she would do with her life.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, running a hand over her hair again. “Do I have lines on my face from sleeping against your shirt?”
I smiled and shook my head. “No, you’re as beautiful as always, Brooke.”
She grinned, looking away. “Thanks. What time is it?”
I patted my pocket, checking for my phone and realized I left it in the cab of the truck. Standing, I helped Brooke to her feet. I smiled down at her, brushing her hair behind her ear and loving how soft if felt against my hand. Brooke blinked up at me, all sleepiness vanishing from her eyes. I don’t know what I did to deserve that look at me, but I was thankful she saw something worth admiring.
Biting her lip, Brooke reached her arms up and twined them around my neck. I smirked at her growing braveness and encircled her in my arms. We stared at one another, each waiting for the other to make the first move. After last night, I didn’t want Brooke to think I was just interested in sex with her. Other than kissing her, I didn’t want to make any more forward actions.
Rising on her tiptoes, she brought her mouth to mine. Her lips brushed against my mouth, gingerly, as she gauged my reaction. If she only knew how much restraint I was exhibiting, she wouldn’t have worried so much. I wanted to lift her up and lay her down while I kissed every inch of her delicate body. Pictures of her half-naked on my bed last night filled my head, and I felt myself growing harder. My eyes slipped closed when she added more pressure to her lips, her fingers caressing my neck. I bunched her dress in my fist, fighting to keep from swooping her up like I really wanted.
When her tongue glided between my lips, a groan filled my throat. She worked it slowly against mine, her lips nipping at mine as she lost her nervousness. Her hands trailed away from my neck and down my chest, gradually, as though she wasn’t sure if it was okay to be touching me. I wanted to laugh, tell her she could touch or kiss any part of me, but I thought that would embarrass her. She leaned against my body, her pelvis rubbing against my hardening dick. This was some kind of torment, though the sweetest I had ever endured.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I wanted to kiss Dylan for as long as I had left with him. It was strange touching him freely after admiring him from afar for so long. It was just as strange to want to touch someone like this. I had never initiated anything intimate with James. Then again, James didn’t make me feel like I was about to spontaneously combust. Dylan kissed me slowly, deliberately, to the point of sending a rush of tingles through my body. His mouth stirred my stomach into a needful frenzy. I wanted him, like really wanted him. Only, I had no idea how to go about telling him. He wasn’t making any movement other than kissing me back. Last night, he had taken control and given me a night I would never forget. I wanted another night like that, only much more intimate. After holding onto my virginity for eighteen years, I finally knew whom I wanted to give it to. I’d admit, I never imagined losing it in the back of a truck, but it was kind of romantic with the stars above us. Dylan’s mouth was driving me insane, but his hands remained—frustrating as it was—on the small of my back. I wanted those hands roaming my body—stoking the embers into the fire I knew he was capable of igniting. Deciding he wasn’t going to take our making out to the next step, I broke away from his mouth and took a moment to catch my breath.
“Dylan,” I breathed, my nerves causing my voice to tremble. “I want to … tonight, before I leave.”
He leaned back to study my face, his arms still around my waist. “You want to what?”
God, he was going to make me say it. The fire from his kiss traveled up my body and settled in my cheeks. Forcing my eyes to meet his, I sucked in a deep breath. I had never been surer of a decision than I was right now. In the future, when I thought back to my first time, I wanted Dylan’s face to pop into my head. We may not be able to date, but we could share this moment. I wanted him to own a piece of my history.
“I want to …” I paused, cringing over what I was about to say. Deciding it was time to nix the shyness, I stared straight into his eyes and finished my thought. “I want to have sex.”
“Oh,” he said with surprise, his eyebrows arching. “You want to … with me. Are you sure about this?”
I nodded because my voice was failing me, my lungs constricting as though a vise grip squeezed all of the air out of them. I wasn’t nervous about sleeping with Dylan; I had imagined it a time or two. No, what I was afraid of was how bad it was going to hurt. Lily had said that her first time was painful, and that scared me the most.
“Unless you don’t want to,” I added, worried he might reject me. If that was the case, forget leaving for college, I might as well die right here.
Dylan chuckled, and the blush in my cheeks heated to a scorching degree. He was laughing at me after I just offered myself to him. Was there anything worse?
“Never in my wildest dreams would I think the Brooke Kingsley would pick me as her first.” His smile widened. I wanted to die. Please Lord, just let me keel over and croak right now.
“Never mind,” I said, a bit disappointed and humiliated. “It was a stupid idea.” I turned out of his arms, but Dylan tightened his grip on my waist and tugged me back to his body. His face was so close to mine, his eyes—one of the many things I loved about him—cementing me in place. They were emotional, conveying his thoughts without a single word leaving his lips. Right no
w, they were more possessive than I had ever seen them. A glimmer of something I didn’t understand filled his gaze.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about slipping between your legs? How much restraint I’ve used because I never wanted to make you feel like you didn’t mean something to me? I take your offer very seriously, Princess.”
My lips parted at his seductive words, and my heart slammed against my chest as the heat in his eyes intensified. It was quickly evident I was out of my league with this guy.
“I’m going to do something with you I have never done with another woman.”
My eyes widened. What exactly was he going to do with me that he hadn’t with anyone? I’d admit I was a little afraid. Dylan was very experienced, if the rumors I’d heard about him were true. What in the world was left for him to do with a woman, and why was he choosing a virgin to do it with?
“I’m going to take my time with you,” Dylan supplied, grinning. “I want to absorb every caress, kiss, and sensation of your body. I want you to enjoy this.”
I released a deep breath, a nervous chuckle quivering from my lips. We haven’t even gotten naked yet, but I already felt exposed to him. He had a way of looking at me that made me feel as though he saw more than what was just on the surface.
“You’re absolutely sure about this?”
I nodded again, swallowing around the lump in throat. “Yes, I want you as my first.”
His grin grew into a full-blown smile, and then he was kissing me again. Dylan’s hands roamed down my dress, clutching the hem. Slowly, he began to lift it from my body.
“There’s a zipper on the side,” I told him with a smile.
He dropped my material, his eyes flicking to the zipper along my ribcage. With a smirk, he unzipped it and worked the straps off my shoulders where it fell in a pool of linen at my feet. Surprisingly, I wasn’t embarrassed to be half-naked in front of him. Anxiety took its place as I balanced on the edge of this life changing moment. I was almost giddy with the idea of Dylan being my first.
Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 12