I tried, but must not have let up on the button soon enough because the line plopped at the edge of the bank close to me. I reeled it back in.
"Maybe try standing up," he said.
I stifled a complaint and maneuvered first to my knees and then to my feet, wobbling on this terrain in my heels. Then I brought the rod back and flung the line, having somewhat better success.
"You're getting it," he said. "Reel it in and try one more time."
I did, and this time the line buzzed and there was the plop of the bobber hitting the water. I locked the reel and then struggled back to the ground, tugging at my skirt. It was then that I realized he was watching me, trying not to grin. "Enjoying the show?" I asked.
"Yep."
I laughed and scooted closer to him. I don't know what I expected, but there was a sudden sharp pull on my line and I jumped and squealed. "What do I do?" I asked, my voice pitched high. My heart was pounding.
"Well, your options are fairly limited."
I shot him a look and started reeling the line in. My pole was bent at the end. In a matter of seconds, I was lifting a small, silvery fish out of the water, and just about as excited as I'd ever been. I scrambled to my knees and swung the fish over. Wyatt caught the line and I lowered the rod.
"Here. Hold it under the belly with your thumb and fingers behind these fins."
I met his eyes. "Words can't express how awesome I feel about catching my first fish. But I'm not touching that little fucker. No way."
He smiled, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he grabbed my hand and shoved the slimy thing into it. "Now. Take the hook at the base and wiggle it loose."
My face was all scrunched up in disgust. "The hook that's in its mouth?"
"That's the one."
So I pulled up my big girl panties and did it. Then I looked at my fish. It was a gross little thing, but I was very proud.
"Photo op," he said. "Smile pretty." He held up his iPhone with the light on and snapped a picture. Then he showed it to me. I looked like me, but I felt like a little girl for a moment. There were a lot of times when I had moments like that. Moments when I got to experience things I should have gotten to experience as a child, but never did.
We went back to fishing and I ended up catching two more real quick. Then it got kind of quiet. And dark. And we were just sitting there with our lines in the water listening to the night sounds and looking up at the stars. I glanced at him and caught a far away look on his face. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.
He was quiet for a moment. Then, in his deep voice, he said, "Thinking about kissing you."
Well this just sent flutters all the way down to my feet. "Are you trying to decide whether to? Or are you imagining what it would be like?"
"Both, I guess."
I watched him for a long moment. "What's the big dilemma?" I asked. We were speaking softly because of how soft the night was.
"I've never kissed anyone but her."
"No one? Not even before her?"
"There was no 'before her.' There was only ever her. We grew up together."
Suddenly it hit me just how far out of my reach this guy was. If he'd spent his whole life with this woman, if he'd never existed in a world where she wasn't a part of him, then who was he? I mean, that was a challenge for him, not for me. But until he found out the answer to that question, he'd never be able to love someone else. Yet what was I thinking? I wasn't looking for love tonight. Just an adventure. He could do with an adventure himself. It would help him rediscover life. "What was your first kiss with her like?"
His eyes fixed somewhere out on the lake. "First time I kissed her, we were eight. Playing in the creek. I asked her if I could give her a grown-up kiss and she said yes. So I touched my lips to hers and tried to stick my tongue in her mouth. She screamed, 'Gross!' and shoved me away. Started dancing from foot-to-foot and wiping her mouth." He chuckled at the memory. "I just watched her like she'd lost her mind. Figured, oh well. I'd just try again another time."
I edged closer to him and put my hand on his knee. "What about your first real kiss?"
His eyes narrowed a little as he pulled up the memory. He still wasn't looking at me. "We were fifteen." He laughed and then looked at me. "Actually, we were fishing."
"You're proving consistent."
He smiled sadly and, for a moment, he was with me. His eyes roamed my face, just for a moment. And then he looked back out over the lake. "We were sitting on a fallen log with our feet dangling in the river. I remember I'd been really quiet for a while. Like for a couple of months. She'd changed. I'd changed. I remember feeling like that was an important time. Like we were either going to change together or we were going to move apart. And it scared me, so I'd sort of quit talking to her. I just followed her around and sort of...waited.
“And we were fishing and that's when she finally mentioned how quiet I'd been. She wanted to know if anything was wrong. And I just looked at her, sitting there in those Daisy Duke cutoffs with her long, tan legs; a little halter top over her breasts, which I remember watching develop with fascination and increasing lust. I told her, then. I felt more than friendship for her. I wanted her to be my girl and no one else's. I wanted to marry her. She laughed at me and told me I was too young to know who I wanted to marry. But then she told me she had feelings for me, too. That she'd had them for a while. That she loved me and wanted to be mine. So I kissed her, then. When I close my eyes I can still feel that kiss. It still rocks me to my foundation. Till the day I die I'll never forget it."
I watched him close his eyes and realized I'd never truly felt envy before. I envied both of them for what they'd had. I envied her for what she'd had. No woman could compete with that perfect memory. He belonged to her. From beyond the grave, she owned him, heart and soul and mind.
Yet, here he was. With me. And I could never hope to give him a memory like that. But I could give him a moment. He could give me a moment.
"Tell me about your first kiss," he said.
I sighed. "Nothing so romantic, I'm afraid. Same night I lost my virginity. First boyfriend. He was a senior and I was a freshman and I thought he was going to save me. He promised he was going to take me away for the weekend, but could I just give it up to him that night to tide him over. So stupid me, I rolled right over. That kiss...it was hurried and sloppy and just, so unsatisfying. Because he was just fulfilling that step before he got to the part he really wanted to do. I remember laying there with him rutting on top of me just thinking about what an awful kisser he was. And then it was over and he took me home and I never heard from him again."
He was quiet for a long time. Then he looked at me. I braced myself for the pity, but it didn't come. I'm not sure why. But I was so grateful for it. Sometimes you don't want sympathy, though you want to be understood. That's what I saw in his eyes. Understanding. I smiled. Finally he spoke, his voice low and quiet. "So tell me about your first good kiss."
I pursed my lips in thought. "Well...I'm not really sure that's happened yet. I've had nice kisses. Kisses that didn't totally repulse me. But I've yet to have my toes curled over a kiss."
His face was a mask, then, as his eyes met mine. "That settles it, then. No way I'm kissing you now."
"Why?" I asked, sounding slightly whiny.
"Because I don't want to be just another in a long string of bad kisses. But then I don't want to be the first memorable kiss, either. Seems like the best thing to do is not kiss you at all, though it's a hell of a sacrifice, I'll admit." His eyes dropped to my lips.
"Might be worth the risk," I spoke softly.
He swallowed. "How old are you?" he asked.
"Now what's that got to do with anything?"
"Don't you want to know how old I am?"
"I figure you're early forties. No big deal one way or the other, to me."
"Well you wouldn't be the one facing the potential felony charges."
"For kissing?"
"For what I'm gonna do t
o you after the kissing."
My breasts tightened, at that, and my mouth went dry. "I'm thirty-two," I said.
"That's a damn lie."
"It's a lie that makes you feel better, isn't it?"
He was gazing hungrily at my lips. "Yeah. I guess." And then he kissed me.
Honestly, with all the talking we'd done about it, I didn't expect it to be anything great. But great can't begin to describe what happened to me during that kiss. He filled me up in places I hadn't even realized were empty. I wrapped my arms around him and sank into him. I let him take me over. I didn't care if I ever came back.
He kept a hand at the back of my neck, fisted in my hair. A short, low moan vibrated in his chest. And way too soon he pulled back. His hand stayed in my hair. I'm sure if he'd let go I would have fallen over. "Well that sucked, didn't it?" he said, his voice suddenly weak.
I licked the taste of him off my lips. "Wasn't the worst. But definitely nothing special," I lied.
He nodded. "Good. Then. Pressure's off." And he kissed me again, his tongue ravaging my mouth. All gentleness fled and in its place was white hot wanting. His and mine. I touched him everywhere. Shoulders, face, hair. I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled his lips tighter against mine. His hands moved, too. My waist, back, the sides of my breasts. He trailed long, hard kisses down my throat while he unfastened the top two buttons of my blouse. And then he kissed his way down between my breasts, which he cupped and squeezed together.
He pushed me gently to my back and kept slowly undoing buttons and kissing his way down my body. He'd never done this with anyone but his wife. It kind of made me feel special. But maybe after tonight, he'd end up doing it with lots of women. Maybe I would awaken him to what he was missing. I wouldn't indulge that little part of me that hoped I was special to him.
He made it down below my belly button and then my whole body was shivering. He looked up and grinned. "You're a responsive one, aren't you?"
I pushed up on my elbows. "This has already been the best sex of my life."
His grin widened and he kept his eyes on mine as he tugged on the zipper at the side of my skirt. Then he kissed the bit of my skin he'd bared there on my hip. "Oh, God," I moaned, letting my eyes roll shut.
And then there was a loud bang. My eyes popped open and Wyatt's head popped up. Our eyes met. "Shit," he said.
There was another bang and now I knew it was a gun shot. My body rushed with endorphins, but in my mind, the whole situation seemed so bizarre I could only laugh. Wyatt scrambled up and reeled in the fishing lines. "We gotta go," he said. He grabbed a small, hand-held lantern and set it aside. Everything else he crammed in the tackle box while I rushed to zip and button my clothes.
There was another shot and then a voice calling from close enough that I could make out what he said. It was a craggy, harsh old voice. "I know you kids is out there!" he shouted. Popped off another shot. "Throwing your wild parties on my property!"
Wyatt muttered curses and then gathered up his things. He held a hand out to me and pulled me to my feet. He was grinning. "This has never happened to me, I swear to God. But we have to run."
There was the sound of brush and weeds being shoved aside and tromped through. I could just make out curses and the words "drugs" and "orgies" and then the voice shouted, "I called the police on you damn kids!" After which there was another gun shot. We were long gone, though. We made it to the path in the woods that cut to the other end of the lake. Wyatt held the lantern out and I kept one hand on his arm to help steady me. I should have taken off the damn heels, but there was no time now. We came out of the woods in time to hear sirens in the distance, but approaching fast.
"Oh fuck," Wyatt said. He grabbed my arm and hauled me towards the truck. He threw his stuff in the back and we clamored in. "Can't go back the way we came," he said.
"He thinks it's kids partying. He won't press charges against you, will he?"
"Oh, yeah. He will. He hates my guts." He put the truck in gear and started driving toward the lake. He turned and drove along its edge. "There's another little trail on the other side of this dam."
"Why does he hate you?"
He shrugged. "I guess 'cause I knocked up and married his only daughter."
And there in front of us in the middle of the dam stood an old man aiming a shotgun at us. Wyatt laughed. "Crazy son-of-a-bitch," he muttered. Then he gunned the gas. Kenny stood in the middle for a long time, but then he jumped to the side, nearly falling in the lake. Wyatt rolled down his window and gave a one-fingered salute to Kenny, who spat a string of curses after us.
I watched out the back window as Kenny shook his shotgun at us. There in the distance I could see two sets of police lights headed this way. Wyatt glanced back. "Looks like they called out the whole force. Wonder who's keeping the sin soaked streets of Hadley safe."
I laughed and hugged onto his arm. "I feel like Bonnie and Clyde."
He slung his arm around my shoulders and brought me to his side.
We bounded down an even worse road than before and I was getting the beginnings of a headache when we finally burst out of the woods onto a gravel, county road. Wyatt turned south, away from the direction we'd come, so we wouldn't run into the two police officers. Not that it would have been that bad. Wyatt probably knew them both by name and it was such a small offense. But still, we had other things we'd rather be doing than talking ourselves out of getting arrested.
"I guess he's been having problems with kids using his lake to party," Wyatt said. "Getting on graduation time. Damn teenagers." Then he looked at me. "No offense."
I laughed. "I'm not a teenager."
"No? You sure?"
"I'm sure. I've left my teen years in the past, I swear."
"Thank God," he muttered.
He drove on, making a couple of turns, until we wound up back on the main highway. "You got anywhere to be tonight, Ettie?" he asked.
"No."
"You wanna camp out with me? Sleep under the stars?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Give us a chance to finish what we started." He shot me a killer wink and then drove on. He drove with just his wrist propped on the top of the wheel. Until we got to yet another back road. This one led up. Up hills and around curves. And then, once again, we were off down a rutted dirt track. The woods were thicker, here. The branches scraped against the sides of the truck. And then suddenly they were gone and we were in a clearing. The clearing ended abruptly and I could see there was some kind of view. Wyatt turned the truck around and backed a little closer to the edge. Then he parked it and I jumped out and ran to the ledge.
It was the most amazing sight. The moonlight spilled over a valley down below. A river snaked through the lush, green country side. There were a few homes dotting the landscape. And cows and horses. But it was all so far away.
"Pretty, ain't it," he said, from right behind me.
"It's heavenly. Thank you for bringing me up here."
He gave my shoulder a squeeze and went back to the truck. I heard him moving around, but I couldn't tear my eyes off the scenery. And then he was back, his hand on my shoulder, pulling me toward the truck. He'd laid out a couple of sleeping bags in the back. I guess it was about normal for a man to carry around fishing stuff and camping stuff in his truck. In this part of the country, there's not just a whole lot else to do.
I hopped up on the tailgate and kicked my feet out to him. He removed first one shoe and then the other. He ran his hand up the back of my calf. At this rate, I was going to come the very moment he touched me.
He brought my foot to his lips and kissed along the arch. He trailed nibbling kisses along the bases of my toes. I leaned back on my hands and moaned. "Mmm. No one's ever gone after my feet like this."
"I've never been a foot guy. My wife never wanted to be touched there," he said between kisses. "These are just too cute to resist. And I like the way it's getting you worked up."
I giggled. "I like it. Oh
, holy fuck I like it," I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot and sent my nerves vibrating all the way up my legs.
Then he bent my knee up and started kissing along the inside of my thigh. I watched him, awestruck. His eyelids were heavy. He was lost in what he was doing. He was nibbling on my thigh because he wanted to, not just because he was trying to get me worked up. That had always been the problem with sex in the past. Men seemed to just be getting me off out of obligation so they could get to what they deemed the good part. Not Wyatt. He let out a low hum and then he looked up at me and smiled. "Yummy," he said. And then went back to kissing.
I ran my hand through his hair. His hands slid up beneath my skirt and gripped the waistband of my pink, lace panties. I lifted for him and he peeled them off, tossing them into the truck bed. He pushed my skirt up and nibbled his way higher up my thigh. He inhaled deeply and let out a soft sigh. I thought he would put his mouth on me, then. But he bypassed that sweet spot and went over to the other thigh.
"Fuck!" I sobbed in frustration, dropping my head back. I was panting all out, now. Sweat dampened me everywhere.
I heard him chuckle at my curse. He grabbed hold of my ankles, pushing them up towards my bottom and spreading me further. And then he was there. Finally, blessedly there, licking and sucking in all the right places. He teased me for what felt like an eternity. Bringing me close to release and then easing back. He did it twice. And then the third time I fell to my back and cried out, "God, no, please!"
Then he gripped my thighs and plied me with his tongue one last time. This time he didn't stop and I climbed higher and higher until I fell into the mad oblivion of orgasm. He stayed with me, making it last longer than I’d ever felt. I don't know if I said anything or screamed anything, but I was dizzy when it passed, and my chest heaved, sucking in breaths.
Wyatt hopped up on the tailgate and nonchalantly took off his boots. Then he got to his knees and scooped me into his arms like I was a rag doll. He laid me on the pallet he'd made and kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips and the communion of it made my heart warm and want and ache and need. I held him close to me, but he reached back and grabbed my wrists to pry me off. He sat back and pulled me up. He nodded down at my blouse. "I wanna watch you undress," he said.
Without You Here Page 2