Take It - Part Two

Home > Other > Take It - Part Two > Page 6
Take It - Part Two Page 6

by DJ Stone


  “Sorry if I cut your night short. I have a reputation of being a bit of a buzz kill. Pretty literal, but it comes from the heart if that helps.” Pierce nervously fidgets with the steering wheel as he apologizes, making him all the more endearing.

  “It’s no problem. You were right. It was time for her to head home. She’ll appreciate it in the morning,” I lie.

  “How does a girl like you get caught up with someone like her? You must be constantly bailing her out and talking her off the ledge of bad situations.” We’re heading back toward my mother’s house, and I’m sorry this night is going to be over so soon.

  I don’t have a way to honestly answer Pierce’s question, and I worry he’ll read my hesitation and somehow know the truth.

  “Most of the time,” I lie again. “It’s why I go out with her. I don’t like knowing she might get herself in trouble on her own.” A little tiny knot in my stomach yanks tighter as this white lie grows bigger and darker.

  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been out with my buddies just to make sure they get home all right. It’s exhausting, but they make the stupidest choices sometimes. I guess people like that need people like us.”

  “People like us,” I repeat, wondering in what world I’d be on the same playing field as a man who puts his life on the line for strangers on a daily basis. For every time I’ve practically carried Tracey to her apartment, she’s done the same for me. We’ve taken turns holding each other’s hair and making idiotic mistakes. But tonight I want to be someone different. I want to be the woman Pierce thinks I am because that person never would have lost her job. She wouldn’t have compromised herself for the mere swapping of physical pleasure with a man she thought she loved.

  “I know this didn’t go quite as planned but I’m really glad I came along tonight. It’s good to be in the company of someone who has her head screwed on straight. You’re coming out of a rough patch in your life, I get that, but I think our meeting was meant to be. Let me take you out on a real date tomorrow for lunch. I’m on the late shift, so I’ve got time. After that though, I’ll be tied to the station for the next three days. There is this beautiful quiet park I know where we can grab some sandwiches and have a picnic.”

  “That sounds really nice.” The nagging guilt from bad mouthing Tracey and lying to Pierce is fading. It’s being replaced by a glimmer of hope that I might actually have a future again. I may be able to breathe without Harrison’s hands on me. Life may go on for me and I may actually find pleasure again at the hands of another man. With the thought of pleasure rolling across my body I study Pierce’s profile. He’s attractive with his boxy chin and sweet smile. His hair is cut short, and in many ways he’s the opposite of Harrison. Their features are completely different, even the way they carry themselves is polarized. But certainly Pierce’s large arms could support my weight as he shoves me against a wall and plunges inside me. Or better yet, while we nibble on snacks tomorrow, splayed across a picnic blanket, perhaps he’ll knock everything to the side so that he can lie back while I ride him, the breeze blowing across our exposed bodies.

  With a heat I’ve been trying to keep at bay pulsing between my legs, I drop my hand on his thigh, not particularly high but not low toward his knee either. If this were Harrison he’d already be hard, and he’d guide my hand toward the bulge in his pants. But Pierce smiles adorably and takes my hand in his, pulls it to his lips, and kisses it gently. He clearly doesn’t see this as the right time, and maybe defaulting to his judgment is what’s best right now, considering how unlikely it is that my judgment be trusted. I smile back and shift in my seat to try to cool the fire throbbing inside me, but I’m unsuccessful. Harrison lit a spark inside me and fanned it into a roaring blaze. It’s beginning to dwindle and cool, but I still so desperately remember the heat it gave, and I want it fanned again. For a little while I assumed it would only be Harrison who could handle it, but now I’m opening my mind to the idea of Pierce eliciting the pleasure I crave.

  Tomorrow when we’re alone, experiencing the romance of a quiet picnic I’ll test the waters of what Pierce can do to quench my thirst. His kindness is abundant, his selflessness clear, but it is his prowess and skill I’m most interested in now. The thoughts of discovering his expertise consume my thoughts as we pull up to the door of my mother’s house.

  Without any coaxing Pierce walks me to my door and leans against the railing of the stairs. “I had a really nice time in spite of everything Jenny, and I know tomorrow we’ll have an even better time.”

  I’m trying not to read too much in his words, but I’m hoping his better time consists of more physical contact than the hand holding we’ve been doing. Even now I can’t tell if he intends to kiss me or not.

  “This is kind of weird being outside your mom’s house. I have a feeling she’s about to flash the porch lights.”

  “I’m not going to lie, that might happen.” I laugh and before I can even brace myself he’s leaning in. His lips press to mine in a soft brushing way that is over before it starts. Were there sparks? I couldn’t tell. But I don’t suppose I can blame him for the chaste goodbye, considering I am about to traipse up my mother’s stairs and sleep in my old childhood room. It’s not as though we could do much here anyway.

  “Goodnight, Jenny,” Pierce whispers as he runs a warm finger across my cheek and stares deeply into my eyes. He is a good man. One of the really good ones. The look in Harrison’s eyes, when I really strained to see it, was so different from this. It was exhaustion and depth layered to hide things. Pierce’s gaze is just what it is. Open. Free of angst. Soothing in its trustworthiness.

  As I slip inside and close the door behind me I can think of only one thing: I need to fuck this man. I need it to be good, so very good. It has to be the kind of fuck that cleanses my pallet of any remnants of Harrison and assures me I can be with a man who treats me like a queen and screws me until I can’t take it anymore. I need to fuck this man . . . and it needs to be soon.

  Chapter Eight

  I dig through the box of clothes my mother had tucked in the back of my closet because I’m sure she thought them too slutty. Eureka—matching bra and panty sets that do nothing in the way of support and everything in the way of sex appeal. I pick a baby pink set that is modest, as far as these things go, because I feel like Pierce may get the wrong idea if I go with the black thong and the see-through lace demi bra. I slip on a long-sleeved cotton dress that can easily be hiked up if Pierce drops to his knees by a tree and starts pleasuring me with his tongue. Maybe I’m setting my sights too high, but I can’t take too many more days without someone pressing his tongue to every sweet spot of my body, or I’ll explode.

  “I hope I picked some decent food for you. I’ll be honest, I haven’t packed many picnics, but hopefully this’ll work.” Pierce looks a little nervous as he weaves his way from my mother’s house toward the quiet roads, leading farther away from the city.

  “I’m just looking forward to spending some time alone with you. You’ve been so amazing, and I want to thank you for it.” I was up most of the night because every time I closed my eyes the scenes that filled my head were so sultry I could hardly breathe. Pierce puts his hand to my cheek and brushes my hair aside. Catching his wrist, I keep his hand close to my face. I kiss the back of his hand and consider sucking one of his large tan fingers into my mouth, but that’s no way to start this. It needs to be more organic than that. I don’t want to force it. We’re two grown people with needs; get us alone on a blanket and nature will take its course. I release his hand, and it rests on my thigh for a moment.

  “You don’t need to thank me for anything. You don’t owe me, but I’m glad we’re going to have lunch. I want to know you better.”

  Not being able to tell if his words have a sexy double entendre is killing me. But even the most respectful man can’t deny a woman who so willingly throws herself at him. Right?

  “You’re going to love this park,” Pierce continues as we p
ull past a large sign, announcing today’s events. A fair. Not what I was hoping for. Affair. Yes. A fair. No.

  “It looks pretty busy here today,” I say, feeling my hopefulness deflate. I doubt we’ll be able to get much hot steamy lovemaking done between the bounce houses and the food vendors. With Harrison, that wouldn’t have stopped us from finding a quiet spot to push the boundaries of what is acceptable, but Pierce doesn’t seem to be nearly as adventurous.

  “There’s a picnic area over the hill that’s pretty quiet even on a busy day like this. We’ll still have plenty of privacy to talk.”

  “You want to talk?” I ask, crossing my legs to tamp out my blaze of excitement I’m now having to tamp out.

  “Isn’t that what people do on dates?” Pierce laughs, and I want to show him what Harrison and I did on our first date.

  A few minutes later we’re tugging at the corners of the blanket Pierce brought and finding rocks to hold the edges in place against the breeze. “It’s beautiful here,” I say. Maybe there is more here than just fucking. Maybe a gorgeous park and a picnic with an interesting and good-looking man can offer its own kind of pleasure. Yes, I’m working to convince myself.

  “So,” Pierce starts as he hands me a plate and begins dividing up the cheese and crackers and fruit he’s packed. “You seem like you’re doing pretty well. How have you been feeling?”

  “I’m sick of this stupid boot, but other than that most of my bruises are fading and the cut on my cheek looks better than I thought it would.”

  “That’s physically; how are you feeling inside? You went through quite a bit and that first time I saw you after the accident you implied you were really struggling through a rough patch. Do you feel like you’re ready to get back out there and tackle life again?”

  “What life?” I ask, shrugging pathetically. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do for work or a car. I mean I have some savings, but if I went out and bought something right now it would wipe that out. I have no clue what to do next. How exactly am I supposed to get out of my mom’s place without a job?”

  “So it sounds like you have your solution right there: get a job first.” Pierce is lounging back now, resting his weight on his elbow as he flexes his large bicep, and it’s distracting me. I want to tackle him, yank his pants down, and mount him. My gut tells me, even with my poor judgment lately, that the mom kicking a soccer ball around with her son might take exception to that.

  “It’s really complicated, Pierce. The day of the accident, I got fired. I was with this guy, and I made some really stupid choices. He ruined me. I can’t just bounce right back from that. I don’t know how.” This feels more intimate, or I guess a different kind of intimate, than what I had planned this afternoon.

  “The day of the accident, where were you coming from? Were you with this guy?”

  “I was trying to get away from a really bad situation. That’s why I was so distracted. That and the fog didn’t help. I just needed to get away.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m here to listen if you want me to. Leaving was the best thing you could have done, maybe leaving a little slower would have helped, but I’m glad you left. You deserve to be treated like someone special.” Pierce rolls to his side and brushes my hair back affectionately. Maybe it’s the softness in his eyes or his kind words, but I can’t help myself anymore. I push my lips firmly against his and grab a handful of his hair. Parting his lips with my tongue I run my free hand down his chest and clutch his belt. No I don’t intend to have sex with him right here with little eyes watching us, but I want him to know I want him.

  “Jenny,” he whispers in a husky voice, “stop, you have to stop.” His hand is on my wrist, gently, but firmly enough to show me he’s not interested in my advances. My embarrassment feels like hot coals over my body.

  “This is a mistake; I need to go.” I roll away from him and fight the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

  “It’s not a mistake,” Pierce announces, still clutching my wrist. “It’s just not the right time.”

  “I know we’re in the park; I wasn’t expecting us to just—” Pierce cuts through my words with a wave of his hand.

  “I don’t mean because we’re in the park. You haven’t opened up to me about this last guy, but it sounds like he did a number on you. I don’t want to be the guy to just make you feel better; I like you. I’m hoping this can turn into something, but doing it this way won’t get us anywhere. You need to be in a place where you feel good on your own first, before we start anything. I’m here to listen; I’ll help you in any way I can, but I’d be an idiot to act like a selfish, shortsighted guy who takes advantage of you in a tough spot.”

  “I made a fool of myself.” I suck in a choppy breath and hang my head, pulling my wrist away from him. “I should have realized you didn’t want me like that.”

  “I want you, Jenny. Turning you down is not easy. You’re gorgeous and funny; we have a lot in common. But I think it sounds like you’ve made some dicey choices and been treated badly. I don’t want to be the next guy in line to do the same thing. Don’t think for a second I’m just some church boy who doesn’t want anything to happen between us.”

  “So what am I supposed to do now?” I feel like running, or whatever semblance of running I can do in this stupid boot.

  “Stay. Eat. Talk to me about who you are and what makes you tick. Let me get to know you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about what Harrison did to me.” I roll my head back to catch the tears before they can fall, trying to defy gravity. “I’m trying to move on from it, and I don’t need it to be something you and I try to work through. I need it to be over.”

  “If that’s how you feel, I can live with that for now. I’m not going to lie, it’s not the healthiest approach to dealing with things, but if it’s what you think you need, that’s fine for now. I can support that.”

  “Why are you like this?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and stiffening my shoulders. I’ve come across men who are weak, men who are dogs, men who objectify me, men who fail to please me or challenge me intellectually. Harrison didn’t require me to feel weak in order for him to feel strong; he was the first man who could have an intelligent conversation with me and laugh with me. I never felt inferior with him, until one day I did. What if Pierce is the real everything? The strong, the kind, the smart, the funny, the patient man. I’d be lying if I said I don’t think of Harrison every quiet moment I have. I do. The time we had together split me open and exposed me to the world in a way I’ve never experienced before in my life. It was like jumping from a plane. The rush, the thrill, the sights, the sounds, everything brand new and fast and powerful. But the thud to the ground was harder than I expected. Maybe we’re not meant to jump from planes. Maybe there is something else. Something safer. It will never replace the sensation of falling fast and gasping for air, but it won’t have me slamming into the ground either.

  After what could only be described as a nice date, Pierce drops me at my door, gives me the same nice little kiss as the night before, and heads off to the fire station. Sitting on my tiny childhood bed I take the final gulp of rich merlot and place the empty glass on my nightstand. I turn to face the neat row of cardboard boxes I've packed with Mom's treasured mementos of my childhood. I can’t stand being surrounded by them anymore. I spy a limp-haired rabbit closest to the bed, most of the plush fur worn off his lumpy body through years of cuddling. Mr. Floppy. Seizing the nearer of his long ears, I snag him and pull him toward me, snuggling the beloved nighty-night against my chest, hoping it makes me feel better. To no avail.

  Squeezing my favored toy with enough desperation to rupture his stuffing, I roll over in my bed, burying my face in my pillow just as the tears come. I suppose in the morning Mom will see the black smudges of mascara on the pillowcase, proof of my tears and continued wallowing. I don't care. I can feel my body growing warmer as I curl in my familiar fetal position, my limbs tingling, my eyeli
ds weighing a ton, as the heady wine kicks in. Losing awareness, I fall asleep in the midst of my sobs.

  Chapter Nine

  We've driven to the lighthouse. There's no one around; it's just Harrison and me, a couple strolling up to the old structure standing guard against this treacherous coast. We walk hand in hand, a picnic basket in one free hand, two flashlights in the other. I recognize this lighthouse, though I shouldn't. Harrison and I haven't been here before. This one's different. Older, abandoned, the entire light structure at the top is removed, leaving behind a smooth cement platform basking in the light of the setting sun.

  I stop, letting go of my lover's hand so I can tug up one runaway spaghetti strap on my sundress while I gather my thoughts. The sunlight is starting to fade; it's full dusk now. I'd never come here alone. It's only the man standing next to me who gives me enough courage to even dare.

  "Are you sure? We really won't get in trouble or anything?"

  "No, we won't. It's abandoned. Believe me, the local cops have enough worries with drug-dealers and drunken teenaged tourists; they're not going to bother with a couple of star-struck lovers."

  "Is that what we are? Lovers?"

  "Aren't we? Stop being such a fraidy cat. You're going to love this. Don't worry. We're not breaking any laws." He laughs. Seizing my hand again, he draws me forward toward the dark, suddenly ominous shaft thrusting itself up into the darkening sky. "Well, technically, we’re trespassing, but what the hell, right?"

  "Sure," I manage, letting the word tumble out as I move the first of my suddenly stiff legs forward. "Trespassing. What could go wrong?"

  "Where's your sense of adventure? The Jenny I know always loves to live on the edge, intoxicated by the whiff of danger."

 

‹ Prev