by V. L. Brock
“Let me touch you,” I clawed at his shirt, barely able to form a single word.
He licked up the length of my throat then dipped his tongue into my gaping mouth once. “You lay back and enjoy.” Forcing a swallow, my jaw clenched as I watched him lower himself down my body, kisses being strewn across my stomach over the material.
Even knowing what he was going to do, I couldn’t have prepared myself for the ultimate sensation that shook my world, sending every coherent thought rocketing out of orbit. My hips were propelling upward to meet him just by the lone feel of his warm breath hitting my core, between the exposing patterns of black lace. I could feel him goading me with that sinful smirk from between my legs with each rocking motion, and each mewling sound I made.
“Holy fuck…” I cried out, my hand clutching for the dashboard as his tongue glided up my center over the fabric. Heavy breaths resonated around the area as I quivered with him between my thighs, my legs hooked over his shoulders.
I forced my eyes open and peeked down to see his head swaying side to side at the summit of my thighs. His tongue flicked and weaved over my swelling clit, pushing its way for further attention, through the latticework of my underwear.
God only knows what lustful words were tumbling from my lips at that point. All I knew was that I was begging for release under the work of such a skillful, sinning tongue which prompted a filthy commentary from my mouth.
Tearing his mouth from the most intimate part of my body for a brief moment, he finally commanded, “Come for me, darlin’.”
My back arched, my toes curled and the hand which was clutching at the dashboard was fisted into his hair, holding him steady as my pelvis rocked in desperation, while his well-practiced tongue continued its heavenly torment.
“Jesus Christ…Walker…Wal––” I tried calling out his name but the rapid coursing of euphoria throughout my body had the name stuck in my throat. Beneath him, I shook, coming hard and fast as I fought for breath, before riding the wave of total bliss.
When he surfaced from his position, his face was a mixture of a victorious grin and evidence of my arousal. “So, am I forgiven?” he asked, his body shielding me with the sweet scent of my juices on his breath and coating the scruff around his mouth.
Walker had fried every brain cell I possessed, that much was certain. Blowing out a steady breath between pursed lips, I fought to form two simple words, “Hell yes.” When I started giggling, his eyes tightened with a frown. “You look like a glazed donut,” I bit my lip.
“’Aye, that’s when you know you’ve done a good fuckin’ job,” he answered, adjusting his crotch and smoothing his hand down his face to eliminated my juices. While he slipped back into his seat, I took the moment to readjust my dress. “You ready to go back?”
I nodded then watched as he reached out to the rearview mirror, the beads swinging to-and-fro like a pendulum. With a second thought, he dropped his hands into his lap and knitted his fingers together. “Forgive us Father for our sins and those created in acts of haste,”––he drew the cross from head to chest, shoulder to shoulder, muttering––“In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Et Spiritus Sancti,” then kissed his knuckles before caressing my knee with a grin.
“I’ve never heard you pray or offer penance like that before,” I said as he pulled out and turned back to the dirt road.
“I may have sinned enough throughout my life, Kady, but I still have a little of my faith left––I have to. He gave you back to me.”
I didn’t tell him that there was something about witnessing him doing that, whether it be the respect, the act itself, or the mere fact that he just spoke Latin, which was probably one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.
Dear lord, I was going to Hell.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He tried to make tactful glances up at the house along my right, but I could feel the nervousness radiating from the man beside me in waves. Regardless of how he attempted to disguise it, it was there, those butterflies and a sense of dread which comes in parallel with meeting the family of the special person in your life.
The keys of the truck were taking the brunt end of his wariness with how he was toiling them between his fingers in his lap. It was when I gave a sideways glance and caught him sucking up a steady breath, with ocean blue eyes fixated on the house, that I finally cracked.
“What’s so funny?” he asked all innocent and worrisome.
“The innocent act doesn’t work, Walker,” I shook my head. “Come on, I want you to meet my family.” When I sensed that he wasn’t budging, I rolled my eyes and reached out to touch his forearm, my chin resting on his shoulder. “You did ravage their daughter at the end of their driveway, the least you could do is introduce yourself.”
When he peered down at me, and his wide-eyes were met by my persuasive ones, his mouth twitched. “Ravaged? I seem to remember it was you jumping on me, darlin’.”
“You know what I mean. I want my family to meet you. It’s not a huge request; you’re going to need to meet them at some point.”
I felt a gust of cool air passing through the door when he released it on a concurring groan. “Now it is then.” Dropping from the truck, he slammed the door behind him, and then made his way to open my door. As I took his hand and he closed my door, he quizzed, “Just wondering, your dad doesn’t own a shotgun or anything does he?”
“Even if he did,”–– at the end of the pathway, I looked up at him––“would it matter?”
The night’s breeze against on my face was eradicated for just a moment, by the back of his warm knuckles gliding down my cheek. Halting at my chin, he coaxed my head back, his lips hovering just above mine. “Not in the slightest.”
“Well then,” I turned to face the house, and taking a step onto the property, I yanked lightly on Walker’s hand, a silent instruction to follow me. “We have nothing to worry about then.”
The moment we stepped over the threshold, I could hear small gasps and welcomes as everyone, apart from Laurie, dropped what they were doing and pushed themselves from their seats to surround us.
“Hey, there you are,” the voice came from the loveseat. “I thought you’d both drove off into the sunset and forgot all about me.”
Walker must have flashed a look at her because her mouth shut just as quickly as it had opened, with an over exaggerated eye roll.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet, Walker,” I leaned further into his side so his arm was in the center of my chest. “Walker, meet my little sister, Brittany, my parents, Judy and Marcus, and Clark, my future brother-in-law.”
“Walker,” my mom gushed, flipping her blond hair back over her shoulders with a timid smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“I wish we could say we’ve heard a lot about you, Walker,” my dad piped up with a hardened, protective glint in his eye, his hand held out, “but short of what Laurie has told us, I can’t.”
“Mr. Jenson,” Walker nodded, shaking Dad’s hand with a firm grip. There must be something about how men assess each other with a handshake, because the moment my dad looked down at their hands, he smiled and nodded his head, almost as though giving his approval.
Brittany didn’t bother with pleasantries. She simply brushed me aside and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for giving me my sister back,” she whispered quiet enough for only me to hear, before pulling away.
“I apologize for my timing. Kady told me about your engagement,” he replied, while Brittany returned to Clark’s side, and her fiancé offered Walker his hand. “Congratulations,” he finished. One thing was certain: Clark was tiny in comparison to Walker. It was almost cute.
“So where are you from, Walker?” Mom asked as we all trailed behind her into the kitchen where she popped another bottle of champagne.
“Boston, but originally from Ireland, Dun Laoghaire to be precise,” he answered while she poured the pink liquid into flutes.
“That’s a long way
, how come you decided to move to Boston?”
I cleared my throat and offered an inconspicuous shake of my head to kill the topic, but Mom being Mom didn’t catch on. Luckily my dad did. “Oh, Judy, stop bombarding the boy with questions.” From one of the kitchen drawers, he retrieved and held up three Cuban cigars, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Three reasons for a Cuban: Engagement, marriage and a birth.”
“Actually,”––Walker dug into his pocket, recovering a packet of Marlboro’s, while Dad slid one of the patio doors open––“I’m good with one of these.” Planting a chaste kiss on my lips, he muttered, “I’ll be back,” before stepping outside with the men of the family, leaving me wearing my heart on my sleeve in the kitchen, awaiting his return.
Walker
When you go through life being judged, you tend to expect it before you dip your toe in the water. That’s why I never judge, I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end. So for those precious moments that we were sitting in the truck, everything was running through my head about how Kady’s parents would and could judge me. The book by the cover, so to speak.
Laurie and I had spoken to Brittany earlier that day, so that softened the blow of the unknown, somewhat.
I walked up that path and stood in their house expecting the disgusted, good for nothing stares as they evaluated me over my non-designer clothing, or the fact that I drove a truck and not a BMW. It was when the man of the house took my hand and smiled with that knowing nod that I realized what I had done.
The chance that they may judge me had me judging them. And I felt guilty as sin for doing so.
We were standing on the patio overlooking the lawn, lighting our cigars and cigarettes. It kind of reminded me of my childhood home. It wasn’t as lavish as what I was looking at, but it had a patch of green and an old ratty shed at the end of it.
“Do you have a date in mind?” I asked Clark, a billow of smoke leaving his mouth.
He rocked on his heels, his hand hanging loosely in his suit pants. “No,” he shook his head.
“You won’t have a say in it anyway,” Marcus muttered, looking up at the sky, following the large silver cloud floating in the air. “Women have been planning this day since they were children. That, and Brittany is an echo of her mother. I didn’t have a say in our wedding either. Judy did it all; all I had to do was show up.”
I couldn’t imagine that for a second. “I hope Kady would let me get involved in the planning. That’s the best part of it right? That build up, the countdown for when you finally get to keep the woman of your dreams, knowing that the day is for both of you, and you both had a say in everything that made it special.” I was smiling, looking into the distance masked by darkness and all I could think of was that day––a day I hoped Kady would come to dream of with me. When I turned to the men beside me, they were stock-still. “Sorry for me rambling on there.”
“No apology needed,” Marcus smiled, patting my shoulder before filling his mouth with the cigar.
A few moments later, Brittany called Clark asking him for help. He conceded like a love sick puppy which made Marcus smile. “See, they’re demanding creatures, especially Brittany.”
“And I wouldn’t change her for the world,” he muttered back, dropping the cigar into an ashtray before slipping inside, leaving me and Marcus to that awkward silence.
Sighing, together with brief smiles, that deafening silence was soon broken.
“I feel so guilty.” The old man stared in the distance with a pensive expression on his face. “I should have made her stay home and not move to Boston. I should have fought to stay in her life. I should have been there for her when she needed me.”
“I beat myself up every day over the same things.”
“How…” he sniffled, his resolve slipping, and a guilt-ridden father stood in his place. “How bad was it for her…?”
Fuck…That was a question I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t imagine how, as a father, knowing the extent of what your daughter had been through, knowing you weren’t there to protect her, would make him feel, but I was sure it would destroy him. And he was destroyed enough already over the small knowledge that he had.
“You know how smart DeLaney is. It took a while before anyone knew. But you have a strong daughter.”
“How can someone be strong but be in a relationship like that though, Walker? It’s a contradiction.”
“Forgive how this is going to sound, but I think they’re strong because they put up with it. It’s when they come to accept how they’ve been living, that they’re at the strongest. But they only have the determination to leave, when they actually embrace that strength.” I smiled tightlipped, then took a step closer to the man on the verge of crumbling. “He isolated her, he didn’t want anyone around her to make her strong enough to see him for what he was and is, but she wasn’t totally alone. When we knew what was happening, everyone was around her, no matter how few there were, and we did everything to get her away from him. And now she’s free.”
“She loves you,” he told me, changing the topic but it sounded more of a question.
“And I love her.”
“If you ever harm her, Walker, I swear to God I won’t make the same mistake again.”
I reached out and grasped his shoulder warmly. “I’d sooner kill myself before I ever harmed a hair on her head. That I can assure you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kady
The light was beaming through my window to the right when I stretched out my body and rolled onto my side. I smiled as that moment of fog between slumber and reality lifted and the thought of the night before played in my mind.
He actually came for me. He drove from Boston to D.C., for me. Twenty-four hours ago I was a wreck, stumbling through day for day, hour for hour, fighting the compelling urge to take the emotional pain away for just a few moments with the aid of physical pain. But I didn’t cave. I kept fighting to stay strong.
As I stretched my limbs out once more, my hand grazing the cold, sage painted wall behind my headboard, I smiled and sunk my teeth into my lip. Walker and Laurie were more than happy to spend the night at the local motel, but considering there were an extra two spare bedrooms, Mom insisted they spent the night.
“Marcus, they drove all this way, it’s too late to go pogoing around for motels,” she said, swinging her sixth glass of champagne around in her hand.
“Pogoing?” Walker and I mouthed in unison, stifling a laugh.
“Okay, fine, you may stay…in the spare rooms.”
“Dad,” I whined.
“When you are both married then you may share a room under my roof.”
“What about me and Clark?” Brittany gasped. “We are betrothed after all,” she declared with an over exaggerated, English air, flashing her newly acquired diamond on her ring finger just to remind us.
“Betrothed is not the same as married.”
Rising on my tiptoes, I leaned into Walker’s ear. “Welcome to the Jenson’s,” I whispered, Brittany and Dad’s debate was drowned out in the background once he turned his head and caught my lips with his own.
“Fine, we shall stay in a hotel. Come on, Clark.” Brittany stormed to the front door, Clark trailing on her heel.
“No sex without safe sex,” Mom called behind them.
“WHAT?! No sex before marriage!” Dad roared, overriding his wife’s alcohol induced statement, before the front door was slammed shut.
Hours passed before I was lying in bed listening to the sounds of the house, the swelling of pipes, the pressure of windows as the wind struck them, and for the life of me I couldn’t sleep. The thought of what Walker had done to me in the truck that evening enhanced the throb striking between my legs, and with him being in the next room, and it being totally forbidden, I just couldn’t ignore temptation any longer.
When I was certain everyone was sleeping, I slipped from the bed and crept the small distance to his room. Carefully twisting the doorknob, I pushed t
he door open and stepped inside. “Kady?” he whispered, that sleepy, sexy tone that sleepy Walker had in the mornings was absent.
“Shush…” I sounded, twisting the lock behind me and making my way to the bed. He was already shifting to the opposite side, making room for me to slip in-between the covers. “I can’t stop thinking about earlier,” I whispered, climbing inside.
“What part?”
“All of it.” I drew tiny stirring circles on the warm flesh of his chest as his arm wrapped around my waist, my leg hooked over his hip. “The thought of you…”
“Of me…?”
“In the truck…” There was something about tiptoeing around this conversation, seeing who would crack first, that was so heady.
“Ah, you mean when I made you…”
I gave in. “Come, Walker…when you made me come…hard…”
“Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty, darlin’,” he whisper-growled and our lips clashed together. Tongues explored one another’s mouths, while the stubble around his lips scraped at my flesh.
We rolled over so he was on top of me. When he reared up to kneel between my legs, I shimmied up to be seated. I was studying him as he studied me, his thumb caressing my lower lip with a hungry, needy look in his eyes, before he took my lips again.
When he pulled away, he asked, “What do you want from me, Kady?”
“I want you to lay back.”
He did as instructed. “Now what?”
I was slipping down the length of his body, placing kisses over every inch of flesh and he didn’t even halt me. “Enjoy,” I answered simply, pulling down the boxers which were shielding my goal as he settled his head onto folded arms.
For the first time I tasted him. Actually, for the first time in over three years, I actually had a man in my mouth.
He groaned and his hips rose from the mattress when I licked up his length, before swirling my tongue around the tip. Adjusting myself to the sensation of warm, hard and smooth flesh in my mouth and on my tongue, I worked my way down, making sure my hand remained at the base. He moaned and gasped, the air hitting his teeth as the moonlight streamed into the room, revealing his toned, tensing abs when he rolled his hips.