Craving Dragonflies

by Terri E. Laine

  I plugged it in and sat on my bed waiting for it to power up enough for me to use it. Flashes of Willow’s face plagued my mind. I closed my eyes against the onslaught. Would she forgive me, or was this just a sign that I’d been selfish to think I could be with her?

  When my cell woke up from the dead, I sent a text.

  An hour later, I waited in the field, watching tall grass lazily wave side to side in the breeze. I didn’t hear her approach. She sat cross-legged next to me, but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  It was inadequate.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Her quiet words carried on the breeze straight to my chest.

  As much as I wanted to tell her the truth, the warning I’d been given made the lie worth it.

  “I fell asleep.”

  That much was true.

  “Your phone?”

  Out of my reach. “Dead.”

  Eyes like fire burned into mine. “I want to believe you. It’s not like I have the best relationship with my phone. But can I trust you?”

  No, because I’m lying to you. If I told you the truth, you would run far away from me. I’d assumed the Vanderbilt Club harmless. The CIA agent who’d interrogated me proved me wrong.

  As he’d pinned the tiny gold crown onto my shirt, he said, “We’re king makers. Ask your father or Sawyer’s. On different sides of the aisle, but with a common goal. One will be president. We rule this country on every level. That only happens when our secrets are kept safe. If you tell anyone of this, I’m afraid accidents… well, you get my point.”

  That was enough to keep me silent.

  I’d taken too long to answer. Willow was in the process of getting to her feet. She was ready to run, and I couldn’t tell her how she’d be a target if I gave her what she wanted. I snagged her hand.

  “Give me a second chance,” I offered, unable to tell her an all-out lie.

  In her eyes, I could see a salvation I didn’t deserve. She was innocence in a perfect package unmarred by life.

  She looked down at where I held onto her hand. I got to my feet but couldn’t let go. To be able to touch was an ability I wasn’t willing to let go.

  “Let me take you somewhere.”

  She didn’t know about the dragon that lurked under my skin and didn’t pull away. I led her around the pond to Chance’s truck.

  I answered her questioning gaze. “I borrowed it.”

  Like the gentleman I wished I was, I opened her door and helped her up into the cab. After I eyed the basket in the back, I got in on the other side and turned on my phone, using the preprogrammed directions.

  “You don’t have class, do you?” I asked a little late.

  Class was over, but she could have a test she couldn’t miss. Her head moved side to side, her wide eyes too trusting.

  I backed out the empty lot and took her hand, unable to get enough of touching her soft skin.

  Chance’s truck was too old for satellite radio. I tuned to a station on FM that hummed between us. A breeze blew through the open windows, swirling loose hair around her head, creating a pretty picture.

  By the time I pulled up to the lake, the sun was cresting the horizon. The glow bounced off the water in a picture worth a thousand words. I backed the truck up over a worn ruddy path, stopping shy of plunging it in.

  “Stay here,” I said, my voice raspy from disuse.

  She nodded, and I got out, climbing into the flatbed. I pulled the folded blanket from where it had been stowed. I spread it out and then went to help Willow out of the cab.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, placing her hand in mine.

  I helped her down, only to boost her up in the back.

  She sat midway with her back to one side. I sat across from her as she waited expectantly for my response.

  “My attempt at a first date,” I answered.

  Chance had been my source of information. He understood I didn’t like crowds. If I had any chance of not fucking this up, something just for the two of us was the only option.

  I dragged the basket over, and with my eyes on hers, opened it. I had to look away to grab the first thing, a thousand-dollar bottle of Perrier-Jouet champagne I’d pilfered from the kitchen. Sawyer had stocked up on expensive wine and liquor when he heard his dad was in town.

  Two flute glasses were next to come out. I set them between us as she watched thoughtfully. I couldn’t get a read on her mood. I had no idea if I was scoring a touchdown or fumbling the ball. I brought out fresh organic strawberries I’d also found in the fridge. Shelly had come to my rescue when choosing what to bring.

  The whole setup reminded me I had a family, more than I thought. Friends that I’d had for years or formed in the last few had been there for me in my panic over what to do to make up my fuck-up with Willow.

  The red ripe berries were already plated. I just had to remove the clear film that held them in place.

  “Champagne?” I offered.

  “Yes.” As I uncorked the bottle, she said, “You went all out.”

  I shrugged. “I won’t lie. I had help.”

  I poured us each a glass.

  “That you thought about it is what matters.”

  I plucked a perfect berry from the plate and held it out to her. She surprised me when she leaned in and bit the fruit from my fingers. Juice burst on my hand, and as I watched her chew, I licked my fingertips clean.

  “Oh, this is so sweet.”

  “Organic,” I tossed out, not even sure why.

  A grin blossomed on her face.

  “Then I should tell you that bees, one of the most feared insects, had a hand in creating these wonderful fruits. They are in danger of extinction because of pesticides.” It was a good thing I’d brought organic. “If they die out, mankind will too.”

  She spoke like a true activist. It should have weirded me out, but it didn’t. Her passion only drove one of my own.

  “I’m sorry, probably not date conversation,” she said, ducking her head.

  “No. It’s good stuff the world needs to pay attention to.”

  That was true and something to think about. Maybe I could write an editorial piece and send it around to the national papers for publication.

  “If I was good with words like a journalist...”

  She drifted off. The fact that we were in sync spoke about my attraction to her.

  “Maybe we could collaborate,” I said.

  Our hands had bridged the distance. Our fingertips brushed the tips of each other’s.

  Touching her was one of my favorite things to do. The simple act had never been a vice until her.

  “Does this mean you’ve changed favorites?”

  Her brow crinkled in confusion.

  “Bees versus dragonflies?” I added.

  The perfect little O her lips formed had me hard in an instant. I had to shift to release pressure as I watched a tiny amount of red juice at the corner of her mouth.

  “No, still dragonflies,” she said.

  I thought about what she’d told me about how the male dragonfly protected his mate even though they wouldn’t be mates for life.

  She drank from her flute, but that spot of sweetness remained in place.

  “Come here,” I said.

  I curled a finger in my direction. I’d only expected her to lean in. But she shoved the plate aside and carefully erased all the distance between us.

  Watching her on her hands and knees only fogged my brain even more. As soon as she was close enough, I licked the corner of her mouth before going for a deep kiss.

  Her lips parted, allowing me entrance, and I took full advantage. The mix of champagne and strawberries on her tongue had me drunk on her. We both reached for each other, she on her knees. My hands cupped her face as she locked her arms around my neck while climbing onto my lap.

  All my dinner plans forgotten, we feasted on each other like it was our last meal.

  Her parted thig
hs and sweet center rubbed against my hard shaft. I shifted us to lay her down and cover her body with mine.

  Thank God for the privacy we had in the place because I didn’t care and it didn’t seem like she did either.

  “I have dinner,” I said.

  “It can wait,” she murmured, taking the cap from my head and tossing it aside.

  I shoved up her shirt and watched her breasts spill from her bra as I pushed it out of the way.

  As I sucked one tight bud in, she’d unhooked the front clasp I’d ignored.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I declared like the world should know.

  I probably shouldn’t have cursed but, damn, I felt like a fucking virgin every time I was with her.

  In my haste to remove her shorts, my glass of champagne spilled over her belly and down between the juncture of her thighs. We looked at each other as she shivered from the cool liquid.

  Time was not wasted as I dipped my head and licked from her slit to her nub. Her wetness mixed with the champagne was a tasty treat I would need to repeat. In fact, I grabbed the bottle and poured some into my mouth. Then I went in and let the liquid flow inside of her only to lap up every drop as she squirmed underneath me.

  “What was that?” she asked, panting the entire time.

  I lifted my head to meet her gaze. “That was me having dessert before dinner.”

  “I want dessert.”

  Her eyes trailed down the gap between us to land on my dick, which strained against my zipper waiting to be freed.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  I went down again and ate her like she was the main course at a fancy restaurant. I sank my tongue so deep inside her pussy, her walls quivered around me.

  Her nails raked over my scalp as she shoved me farther into her silky depths until she was calling out my name.

  When she went limp, I thought we would return to our original scheduled program. But my girl got her second wind. She sat up and shoved me to my back. We had to scoot around to make it happen in the small space. But soon, she was hovering over me with a demand of her own.

  “My turn.”

  45

  Willow

  * * *

  The stupid button of his jeans wouldn’t give as a breeze reminded me of my half-naked state. Finally, he felt pity on me and unbuttoned his fly as I drew my shorts back up and over my bare bottom.

  There was nothing between him and his jeans except skin. “Wow,” I murmured softly, not realizing I’d spoken out loud. His dick was a thing of art. Smooth skin over taut muscle in a long, thick package. The crown of which was plump and almost red straining in my hand.

  I leaned down and took a lazy lick from base to tip before sucking the head into my mouth like a blow pop. A hint of something salty touched my tongue, and I sucked harder for more.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, gliding his hand to the back of my head.

  Gently, he guided me at the pace he wanted.

  The whole thing was so erotic, my panties were damp with need even after just having one orgasm.

  I lifted my eyes to see his hooded as he bit on his lower lip. I could have come at that very moment. Using a tighter grip, I worked my hand up and down on the part of him I couldn’t swallow. It was hard enough keeping my cheeks hollow and my teeth from grazing him.

  When his hand fisted in my hair, slightly tugging me off, I knew what he wanted.

  “I need inside you.”

  I nodded, already on the same page.

  We frantically tugged our bottoms off. He was faster than me and sat watching. His stare sent tingles down my spine and to all the female parts of me. I crawled over to him when he beckoned, trying my best to look sexy.

  This time when I crawled onto his lap, I sank down onto his shaft, loving every stretch.

  I moaned before nibbling on his lip and rocking myself up and down. He dug his fingers into my hips as I drew closer, needing contact with that certain spot.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he said.

  He groaned against my mouth, and an orgasm shot out of me so hard and fast I couldn’t contain a scream. It echoed across the lake.

  Then I found myself on my back, him driving inside. His thrust felt purposeful, and soon he was grunting my name as I felt the warmth jetting inside me.

  “Jesus, Willow, what are you doing to me?”

  I was too busy catching my breath to answer, but a similar question was on my tongue. He rolled us to our side and just stared at me.

  “I should feed you,” he said.

  I grinned at him. “You did.”

  He smirked. “Does that mean you’re full?”

  With him still inside me, I saw the dirty side of everything he said and glanced down before meeting his glazed eyes.

  “What are you offering?” I asked.

  I couldn’t believe I’d said that and lost that thought when he thrust his hips up, forcing his cock deeper.

  It didn’t end there. This time, he went deliciously slower until we were both breathless, panting from another explosive orgasm. After, he insisted on feeding me. I ate shrimp cocktail from his fingers and drank more bubbly champagne.

  “Tell me something about you.” A flash of panic crossed his beautiful features. “Like, what’s your favorite color?” I tossed out, easing the lines that had formed across his brow.

  He put another delectable shrimp into my mouth, and I chewed while he answered.

  “Gold.” I arched an eyebrow, searching for more. Instead, he tossed the question back at me. “You?”

  My new favorite had to be the stormy blue-gray of his eyes, but I felt too self-conscious to answer that way.

  “Blue, I guess.”

  “Dragonflies?”

  I grinned like a schoolgirl. Was I that predictable, or did he know me better than even my stepsister? That was indeed the color of my favorite of the dragonflies.

  “Yes.”

  The conversation went on as we asked each other about more of our favorites. Then when that lost steam, he asked, “Where is one place in the world you’d like to go?”

  I sat for a moment and pondered that. I didn’t have to think too long for an answer.

  “Rome, and before you ask, it’s because it’s one place where there is evidence that the world existed over two thousand years ago.”

  He nodded.

  “Have you been?” I asked, sure he had as he’d accepted my answer.

  “I have, but I have a feeling if I go with you, it would be a new experience.”

  We talked and ate more as the sun completely set. He had a four-course meal for us that was restaurant worthy. As the night cooled, I ended it wrapped in his arms with another blanket around us.

  I hadn’t realized I dozed off until he jerked in my arms. Alarm rang in my head with the instant jolt of panic in his eyes as he nearly scrambled away from me.

  “Are you okay?”

  He heaved in a breath and nodded like he couldn’t speak, spooked from whatever nightmare had woken him.

  “We should go,” he said.

  I was still reeling at how desperate he’d looked to get away from me until recognition settled in his gaze.

  “I—” I tried to say something, but he was already in motion.

  His determination to leave stilled my tongue. My words got glued to my throat as I worked to make sense of what happened. Then we were on the road with nothing but the radio to interrupt our thoughts. I didn’t want to be confused, but I was. What had happened? More importantly was, what had happened to him to put that kind of fear I’d seen in his eyes? It haunted me all the way to my place.

  When he turned off the engine and walked me to my door, I had hope for the rest of our night.

  “Will you stay?” I asked when he didn’t follow me inside.

  He framed the doorway with his forearm, leaning just outside.

  “I can’t. I have practice in the morning.”

  “That’s fine,” I rushed to say.


  “I wouldn’t want to wake you. You don’t have to go to campus in the morning?”

  As much as I wanted him to stay, I didn’t lie and shook my head.

  “Maybe we could meet for lunch or dinner?”

  I nodded and slid my phone from my pocket to wave at him. I’d made a point to keep track of it the last few days. I had a boyfriend now who might call me. It gave purpose to what used to be a useless device.

  He bent his head inside to give me a kiss that left my knees weak. Then I watched his back as he disappeared down the stairs.

  Celeste came out of her room as I was headed in.

  “Looking bowlegged, little sister,” she jabbed.

  I gave her the finger and kept going. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, and I didn’t have time to play her games. It took me a while to find sleep as my mind kept circling back to his waking panic.

  The next few days were a dream. All the little things couples did that spiked jealousy in me before became my life. Ashton was back to normal. Whenever I was near, he was touching me, my hair, my face, my hand as he held it like he didn’t want to let go. All those things made me push away asking about his fear from the other night.

  I was home when Celeste came in. She glanced around.

  “Where are you hiding him?”

  I followed her glaze. “Hiding who?”

  “Your boyfriend, silly.”

  “Oh, he’s home. He has a test in the morning.”

  “And?”

  “And he has to study.”

  She gave me that are you kidding me glare.

  I tried not to think about how he’d always had an excuse as to why he wouldn’t spend the night with me. I’d told myself repeatedly it was fine. I wouldn’t worry about it until after the new semester when he wouldn’t have a reason like major tests or football. Plus, things were going really well. Why rock the boat?

  “How about you and your boyfriend?” I asked to switch the subject.

  Her smile died a saddened death. “What boyfriend?”

  She gave me her back and busied herself in the kitchen. As I formulated a follow-up question, she added, “I should tell you I’m not going home for Christmas.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. I’d been headed her way, so she couldn’t avoid me.