“And where is this?” I asked looking around at all the darkened houses.
“My house,” he said exiting the car. I stopped and thought on that. His house? He rounded the car and opened my door before I could piece together the puzzle. I looked up at him as he offered his hand with a smile.
“Why do you look worried?” He asked pulling me from the car, resting his hand on the small of my back. “Don’t worry,” he laughed pushing me towards the side door, where an old fishing lamp was mounted on the side of the house illuminating a little brass plaque with his family name on it. He smiled so wide as he slipped a key in the door and we stepped into a darkened kitchen. He reached around me and flipped on a light. “Welcome to my home,” he said tossing his keys onto the little tea table that sat against the wall. He pulled two bottles of water from the little vintage refrigerator and I just stood there.
“I thought you lived near Robert? Near the track?” I asked stepping into the kitchen taking a water from his hand.
“I have a place near the track. But I prefer to be here, this was my mother’s cottage, my grandmothers actually.” That explained the family placard. “I come out here when I want to get away. Come, I’ll give you the tour.” He nodded and I followed him from the kitchen into a wide open living space with a stone hearth and knotty old woods floors. There was a big cozy couch covered in a barely there, faded floral pattern. An overstuffed plaid chair sat across with a large ottoman and a brass framed glass coffee table between. Off to the other side was a darkened sunporch, a small powder room and a narrow hall leading towards the back of the house.
“I’ve done a little remodeling, but it’s still just a cottage.” He stopped in the darkened hall and turned, looming warmly over me, his smile easy. There were two rooms at the back of the house, a small study lined with messy bookshelves and the final room. His room. “This is where I did the most work,” he said proudly as we stepped into the bigger than expected, bright and cozy space. “I made the room bigger, restored the beam work,” he looked up and my eyes followed to the large, old beams that ran across the ceiling breaking up the fresh white bead board.
“It’s beautiful,” I mumbled as he continued, beckoning me to follow him.
“This is the best part.” He pushed open a deceptively small door revealing a gleaming new bathroom. There was a claw foot tub in the corner and a walled in shower at the back, two pedestal sinks on one wall and a long beautiful antique vanity on the other with a velvet bench. He was right, the whole cottage was beautiful, quaint and perfect. But this, this was the best part.
“You did all of this?” I asked, more than a little impressed.
“Well, I had help, but yes.” He smiled and led me back into the bedroom.
“Who knew you were so handy?” I asked half joking. “What else have you done?”
I stepped up to the end of the bed and smiled. It looked like heaven after the long night, the long drive. Not the bed I was expecting. No, this bed, his bed was a sanctuary. Oversized and lifted. The bed sat in a sleigh frame of dark cherry wood, a stark contrast to the light colors on the walls, it mirrored the beams in the ceiling. The headboard was grand and curved into the wall flanked by mounted reading lamps on either side. It looked comfortable, slept in, inviting.
A quilt that wore its years better than it should was folded across the foot of his bed, clearly old, clearly sentimental. The fluffy down comforter was covered in a solid white cashmere duvet that made the whole thing look like a lifted cloud. Three rows of pillows backed up against the large headboard. I closed my eyes for just a moment, just needing a little rest, being equally impressed by Kelley’s abilities and worn out by the hour.
The night was long, and though we had stopped for coffee and I had insisted I was ok to go home I had suddenly hit a wall and before I knew it I felt myself sway and I opened my eyes, disoriented, unsure how long they had been closed. I pulled in a deep breath and Kelley stepped up behind me, pressing himself against my back. I leaned into him without a thought, resting my head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands sliding down my arms, his fingers lacing in mine.
“You’re tired,” he whispered nudging me around the bed with his palm at the small of my back. My eyes were suddenly so sleepy, my wits too exhausted to fight, but I didn’t want to sleep.
“Climb up,” His warm voice slid across my shoulder sending a walking shiver down my spine. I stepped up to the edge of the bed and realized I am eclipsed. The height of the mattress hits me squarely at my waist, I’d have to jump, or climb. I looked back at Kelley and he was trying not to laugh.
“I made this too,” he winked and in a split second he put his hands under my ass and catapulted me into the air. Shocked by the feeling of his hands on my ass and not wanting to fall on my face I quickly pulled my knees out and landed on the soft bed before his hands were gone.
“Wait, Kelley,” I said as he turned to walk away, only going to the light, he turned it down before returning to his bed and climbing on with far more ease and grace than I displayed.
“Get comfortable, kid,” He said but I winced.
“I really wish you wouldn’t call me that,” I said quietly as I pulled a pillow beneath me and turned to my side watching him, his movements, his body, and his face as he turned to me in question.
“Kid?” He asked seemingly unaware of just how small it made me feel.
“Yes, I am not a kid, Kelley.” He took a beat and a breath before his brows knit together in question.
“Nope,” he smirked, his eyes scanning my body. He chewed his lip as if contemplating what I’d said, weighing its truth. He filled his lungs and released a dramatic, all for me sigh and responded. “I will take that into consideration,” he shifted down the bed and pulled a pillow beneath his head turning to his side to face me. “I guess I still think of you as that little girl, Kiki. The last time I saw you, you were what? Eleven?”
“I was twelve,” I retort. “But I’m not a little girl anymore Kelley, I grew up.” I am acutely aware of the irony of my words as I snuggle down into the comfort of his fluffy bed, my hands tucked beneath me, legs tucked tightly to my chest. He scrutinized me for a moment before he spoke.
“I miss those days.” He looked at me but it was like he wasn’t seeing me. Not the me that was right in front of him. He was looking at me like I was a memory. “I miss that you. Miss that time. I miss your dad.” This hits me like a ton of bricks, of course, he missed my Dad.
“Kelley,” I started, but he wasn’t finished.
“My whole world banked on that curve.” With his words, he knocked the wind out of me and a small mewl escaped my barely parted lips. “When the smoke cleared,” he left the thought and gazed over my shoulder before turning his attention back to me, intensely, deliberately. My heart hurt for him, for this strong man who was before me, the pain in his eyes, I ached for him.
It was easy to be consumed by my own pain, by mother’s pain, I was twelve. I didn’t consider that Kelley had also lost someone he loved, someone who was like a father to him. I had always missed Kelley for selfish reasons. Because I thought he could take me back, make me feel closer to my dad again. But laying here across this big bed from the man he has grown into I realize how much my dad meant to him too, and I ache. I realize that the hole I was left with was not all from the loss of my dad, it was from losing Kelley, and in even more eye-opening truths, he was suffering from the same hole.
“I didn’t know you weren’t coming back.” His soft eyes were filled with a dull pain but his body was stiff, guarded. His arms crossed over his chest, his body closed. I pulled my pillow and scooted a few inches closer to him, but he didn’t open up.
“Why didn’t you write?” I whispered knowing it was a stupid question. He was an eighteen-year-old boy. He was busy racing and making his name. Why on earth would he write a twelve-year-old girl? His eyes grew wide and he scoffed for a moment before scooting back the fe
w inches progress I had made.
“Are you kidding me?” He rattled quietly through gritted teeth. He shook his head and looked at me, looked through me, his eyes full of hurt and anger.
“Kelley, I don’t…I’m sorry,” he didn’t allow me to finish the unformed thought before he cut me off.
“Can’t change the past, kid.” He paused and looked at me, really looked at me. “I mean, Makayla.” He smiled. “What’s done is done. No reverse on this track baby, we move forward in perpetual motion. No use dwelling, right?” He asked with a grin and he seemed to have found a better mood, but he was definitely changing the subject and done with this topic, for better or for worse.
“I’m sorry, Kelley,” I said softly as he turned his attention away from me and to the large TV mounted on the wall, he grabbed a remote control and raised it in the air. He glanced at me briefly and I could see by the set of his jaw that he regretted going anywhere near those emotions and was doing all he could to turn that spigot off, so I relent.
“I’m tired, come here.” He propped himself up and opened his arms, inviting me with a nod into his space. I moved up and settled into the curve of his arm, my front pressed to his side, head perfectly cradled in his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and squeezed me tightly.
“What are we watching?”
“I just want to see if they are saying anything about the Renault engine. If they decide to allow these kinds of modifications it could change everything.” I smiled up at him and nodded, settling into him. This was something I definitely missed. I pressed myself into his warmth, wrapping myself around the rock solid wall that was his rib cage. His hand settled into the curve of my waist and I felt his chin rest on the top of my head. This may be heaven, was all that went through my mind as I lay in Kelley’s big fluffy bed, tucked beneath his chin, warmed by his embrace.
Chapter 11
The Spread
When I woke the TV was on and Kelley was asleep, softly sawing logs, his arm still wrapped around me. He looked beautiful in sleep. His face was soft, long dark lashes splayed across his cheeks. His jaw was still tight, but that was a testament to the amazing planes of his face. His shoulders rose and fell with each shallow breath, his chest expanding, testing the limits of his faded t-shirt. I wanted to reach up and touch him, to caress his cheek, run my finger along his barely parted lips. I needed to feel him, to smell him. Instead, I rolled off the bed and quietly padded into the amazing bathroom, softly closing the door behind me.
I filled a glass of water and set to being nosey. There wasn’t much to snoop, he was all man. There was a razor on a hook, and an old fashioned foaming brush in a stone receptacle. There was a used bar of soap in the soap dish next to the sink and a cup with one lone toothbrush in it. This made me smile. One toothbrush. He had a glass shelf that housed his collection of colognes. There were so many bottles, but it appeared he clearly favored only a couple of them, the rest were full and possibly never used. I lifted the mostly empty bottle and sprayed it in the air. Oh yes! There he was, Kelley in a bottle, sandalwood and smoke, leather and pine. It was like a bottle of male essence and it fit Kelley perfectly. I was tempted to snag the bottle but clearly, he would know, so instead I noted the name and replaced the bottle, with every intention of buying a bottle for myself, just for a rainy day.
I filled my water, put a dab of toothpaste on the end of my finger and proceed to ‘brush’ my teeth, just in case he felt the need to kiss me again when he woke up, which I really wanted him to do. I switched off the light and opened the door to find him sitting up on the edge of the bed.
“Everything alright?” He asked standing and coming towards me.
“Um, yeah,” I barely managed as he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and dragged it with one hand over his head. He reached out and took the glass of water from me with his other hand.
I roamed the terrain of his amazing chest with my sleepy eyes. He was broad and solid, a peppering of dark hair running across his chest with a narrow trail running down his tight, sculpted belly. His left arm was covered by a tattoo from shoulder to elbow, a collage of dark and light shadows that I wanted to investigate. He smiled, catching me admiring him before he emptied the water glass and pushed his t-shirt into my hands.
“Here,” he said as he walked around me into the bathroom. “Why don’t you change? It will be more comfortable to sleep in.” I looked down at the t-shirt in my hand. The dirty t-shirt that he just took off. I wrinkled my nose for a moment and considered putting his worn t-shirt on, then I smelled it. Oh god, I could definitely sleep wrapped in that scent.
Kelley closed the bathroom door and I heard the water at the sink come on. I seized the opportunity and rounded the bed, turned my back to the bathroom and whipped my dress off dropping it to the floor. I unhooked my bra and let it slide down my arms before I pulled his t-shirt over my head and it was like heaven. Soft and worn and smelled like being wrapped in Kelley’s arms. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, as deep as my lungs would allow and I held him in. I held him in my lungs, deep in my chest for as long as I could before I let the breath out and opened my eyes.
The water stopped and I jumped into his huge bed just as he opened the bathroom door. The faint glow of only the TV illuminated him and it was glorious. The planes of his chest, the convergence of his abs into that V that made smart girls dumb. He had a pair of cotton pajama pants on that were slung dangerously low across his hips, threatening to wipe my mind blank.
“I like that,” he nodded in approval as he stepped up to the bed and threw the covers back revealing my bare legs.
“What?” I barely managed before my mouth went dry.
“You, in my bed,” his lips twisted in a hungry smirk and he slid into bed and into the middle. “In my shirt.” I lay still, watching him, unsure of what to expect, what he was about to do just as he reached out and snaked up and over my hip and pulled me to him. “Mmm,” his chest rumbled. “I want you close. I want to feel you.”
I snuggled against him and he was so warm. I couldn’t help myself, he smelled amazing and I ran my nose up his throat and pulled him deep into my lungs. I ran my hand across his chest and heard a little rattle in his throat.
“Mmmm” he rumbled, “don’t stop.” He grabbed my wrist, rolled towards me and up on his side, craning his neck so I could get even closer. He held my wrist tightly and pressed my hand against his chest. God, he smelled good and felt even better. His body hummed as his breathing deepened, the vibration of his Adam’s apple tickling the tip of my nose. He pressed in tighter, the space between us swallowed by our mingled heat. He left my hand pressed between us and grabbed my thigh, sliding his leg between mine. My body pulsed and undulated against him, my heart racing as I saw everything I have wanted from this man come into view. His hand slid into the curve at the back of my leg and he cupped my ass, his grip tight, fingers digging into my bare flesh. A low roar grew in his throat and he flipped me back and topped me swiftly, his forehead pressed to mine.
“Fuck it,” he whispered roughly his eyes alight with undeniable lust and everything south of my hairline went up in flames. His mouth came down on mine and the oxygen was sucked from the room. His tongue pushed through my lips, demanding, invading and I liked it. His mouth was as sweet and warm as it was bossy and I melted. I floated away on the taste of toothpaste and Kelley’s tongue. The kiss went so deep I almost forgot to breathe, feeling nothing but him, wanting nothing but his mouth. I pulled at his bottom lip with my teeth as he pulled away.
“No,” I mewled until he began kissing my neck. “Oh God,” was all I could manage as he licked and kissed and sucked every inch of my skin until I was floating. From one side to the other he left nothing left untouched. His hand moved down to my breast and he grasped my flesh tightly squeezing me as he looked at my face. My eyes flashed because I liked it, I more than liked it, I wanted him to hold me tighter. He grinned knowingly before slipping his hand beneath the t-shirt and t
raversing my bare skin.
“Sit up,” he commanded quietly and I shot up as he rested back on his heels, his knees in the bed on either side of me. With one hand he whipped the shirt over my head and flung it off the bed, with the other he pushed me down and held me, his palm flat against my chest. He looked me over, his eyes coolly examining every inch of my exposed flesh. He ran his hands up my sides, his thumbs grazing my breasts, sending a shiver across my skin which he swallowed as he closed his mouth around one of my nipples. He licked and sucked but when he ran his teeth over my skin my heart took off. It was like fireworks shot from my tits and I was on fire, I needed him to do it again.
“You like that,” he whispered against my skin as he moved to the other side and repeated the fireworks show.
“Oh yes,” I whispered, looping my fingers behind his ears, pulling his mouth closer to me. He bit and twisted my nipple while his other hand wandered down over the curve of my waist, over my hip, across the swell of my belly and he stopped, his fingers just resting beneath the waistband of my little cotton panties. He looked up at me and I sighed with such need there could be no mistaking that I wanted him to keep going, to take it, yet he stilled. His hand teased me as he rested it just above where I wanted it to be. He allowed his fingers to tap a slow rhythm on my pelvis that threatened to drive me mad. I rolled from side to side, waving my hips at him as a little sigh escaped my throat. He shook his head and smiled, pulling his bottom lip through his teeth.
“Oh no,” he said quietly pressing his weight into me. “I’m the driver baby, I decide what we do and where we go, I decide where to take you. Do you understand?” He asked and he tapped the end of my nose. I opened my mouth to respond when he took my breast into his hand and drug my nipple through his teeth.
The Curve Page 9