And my dreams had been so amazing; he came to me there almost every night.
His scars had never put me off, ever, not even before this attraction to him that seemed to swell within me on a daily basis. I hadn’t wanted a man this way since Chris. Justin was the opposite of my husband in so many ways, but that was fine with me; where Chris had been tender and sweet, Justin was blunt and temperamental, with an enormous chip on his shoulder. But such wide shoulders, such powerful arms. Oh how I wanted those arms around me.
I hopped to my feet, wishing desperately that Joelle was already here. Fuck, I missed her and she would be such a distraction when these kinds of thoughts came creeping at my door. I knew there was a pack of smokes on the windowsill from earlier and headed over the dock boards with my chin tipped down. I was thinking that maybe I should repaint my toenails pretty soon and when Justin suddenly said, “I knew you’d be out here,” I gasped and started so hard that I almost fell into the lake. He was coming down the incline from the café with easy footsteps while I stood watching him with my jaw all but hanging open, my heart doing a slam-dance inside my chest.
He’s here, he’s here!
I knew if I tried to speak I would sound embarrassingly breathless. I crossed my arms over my breasts and instead, despite the joy that tidal-waved through me at the sight of him, mustered up a glare. He was wearing a pale t-shirt and his faded jeans, and was barefoot, of all things. He offered no explanation for why he was here at this time of night, scaring the shit out of people. For a moment I wondered if I’d just had more to drink than I’d thought and my intense longing for him had conjured up his image, then almost laughed at myself. I’d only had three margaritas and he was absolutely really here. And some part of me had known he would be, sooner than later.
He reached me but continued right past, moving to the end of the dock and sitting on the glider. I turned slowly, my face burning and my heart refusing to chill out. He tipped back as though to study the silvery, starry view in leisure. Finally he asked, not looking back at me, “You care to join me?”
“What are you doing here? You’re barefoot! Are you drunk?” I asked then, moving to join him though not uncrossing my arms. I stood looking at him, probably appearing pissed off due to my stance. But I was a little pissed off, and though I hated to admit it with him so close, totally and completely aroused.
He tipped his head at me and said, “I’m not drunk, Jilly. I just knew you’d be out here.”
“So?” I demanded, though the word came out less irate than I’d intended. After he’d brought me home so abruptly the other night, I was still a little hurt. He bent forward and leaned his forearms on his thighs, keeping his eyes on mine.
“Because,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and my heart was thudding so loudly he could probably hear it. But he remained totally composed as he asked, “You want to sit?”
I sat, near but not touching. I heard myself say, “Remember how we all used to skinny dip out here?”
He laughed a little and said, “Of course. Is that an invitation?”
My heart seemed to beat out of my chest. Without thinking I stood abruptly, though I’d just sat down, and then he stood too. For a long moment we faced each other through a crackling net of tension and then Justin moved forward the mere two feet that separated us. With no hesitation he took my upper arms in his strong hands. I made a small sound in my throat and my arms went way up around his neck as though they had minds of their own, pulling him directly down to me. In the next moment I was pressed tightly to his powerful chest, my heart crashing against him, being kissed like this was Justin’s last night before shipping out to war in the morning. I moaned again, tipping my head the other way to deepen our kiss, as I’d been daydreaming about for weeks now.
No…much, much longer than that.
“Jillian,” he murmured against my mouth, his hands all over me, voice deep with desire in a way that made my knees falter.
Despite the fact that his palms had never been against my bare skin, when he slipped them under the ragged hem of my old t-shirt and up my naked torso, nothing had ever felt more natural, or better. I went up on tiptoe and curled my fingers deliciously into his thick black hair as he cupped my breasts. I hadn’t been touched this way in so long. So long, and it felt amazing because it was him. How many times had I dreamed about Justin like this? Too many to count.
He groaned against my mouth and then moved swiftly to lift me up into his arms, my legs around his waist. I tipped my head back, exposing my throat, hoping he’d bite it, which he did, lightly, sending shockwaves of heat through my belly. I tightened my legs around his waist and knew I had to feel him inside of me or I might die right here.
“Don’t stop,” I ordered, breathlessly, and he grinned into my eyes like a gorgeous demon that was after my soul. But that thought aroused me even more.
“I won’t,” he informed me, low, letting my feet slide to the dock and swiftly pulling the shirt over my head. I twisted out of its confines, impatiently, then tearing off his next, curling my fingers through the dark hair on his powerful chest, just like I’d been fantasizing. I bent and trailed my chin down the narrow line of hair on his hard, lean belly, unzipping his fly and then continuing to my knees, yanking down his jeans and taking him into my mouth before I even knew what I was doing. It was as though a red-hot haze had descended over my vision, the way people describe when they’re terrifically angry. My insides were liquid and I had become a demon myself, of the intensely horny and needed-to-be-satisfied-now variety.
“Jillian,” he said, breathless, cupping my head with one hand as I took him deep, and then deeper. I had once been rather expert at this, and ran my tongue and lips around his hard cock, taking him down my throat and loving every moan and gasp that I elicited from him. I would have swallowed every drop, I was that into it, but he shifted suddenly and was on his knees beside me, gathering me into his arms and tipping his forehead against mine.
“Oh my God, you’re incredible,” he said, sounding like he’d just swum across the lake at thirty miles an hour. He worked quickly then, spreading his t-shirt on the dock boards while I watched, moved at this gesture and loving the sight of his broad, muscular back shifting as he made a space there for us. He kicked out of his jeans and then turned back to me instantly and caught me close, kissing me in that way of his that made my head spin. His kiss was what had created the red-hot haze in my mind. I was shaking, incredibly wet, as his mouth plundered mine, so urgent and with such skill. I didn’t break the kiss as I shimmied out of my own shorts and pulled him over me, lying back on the dock on the t-shirt he’d spread with such care. I curved my thighs around his hips.
He held himself over me, on his forearms, looking down into my eyes with an expression I couldn’t quite read. He was breathing hard and I was sure that if I pressed my palm to his chest his heart would be generating enough energy to illuminate the whole state, same as mine.
“Justin,” I breathed, reverently, my voice hoarse, and his eyes lit with a smile as kissed me again, so amazingly. I bucked up against him, feeling his hard length against my thigh, needing to be filled up by him. I needed it so much I was a little afraid of myself. I grasped hold of him and he groaned like I’d plunged a knife into him, gliding his hands over my hips and then driving deep as I cried out, trying to muffle the sounds against my forearm. He beat into me like nobody’s business, but I needed that, meeting his thrusts and then some. No condom, nothing. But I knew neither of us had made love in so long we were practically insane from the deprivation. It wasn’t like I was getting pregnant, not since I took the pill to keep my periods regular.
“Oh my God, Jilly…” he gasped out, and would have pulled out if I hadn’t clung to him with my arms and legs.
“It’s all right,” I murmured minutes later, cradling him against me. He was still inside me and was still hard, though he’d just come about a milk truck’s worth. “I’m on the pill.”
He drew a de
ep breath and lifted his head, bracing above me again on one forearm. He traced the right side of my face with the back of his fingertips, a smile playing on his lips. He was truly beautiful, scars and all. I ran my own hand lightly over those, finally, touching every last ridge and deformation, letting him know how I felt with just my fingers. He shuddered a little and closed his eyes for a moment, still within my body. I moved beneath him, taking up a less frantic rhythm, and his eyes flashed open and drove into mine. He kissed me again, with so much feeling that a small but intense orgasm shook me. I tipped back my head as he kissed my neck, again taking my hips firmly in his hands as he plunged into me. He bit my earlobes, my throat, took my nipples between his teeth. I shivered and melted by turns as he played with my body, running his tongue between my breasts, nipping me and placing suckling kisses all over my skin. Sweat beaded on me, fine as mist, as I came again, gasping against his neck. And still he didn’t stop.
“Justin, oh God, Justin,” I moaned, panting in between intense rushes of pleasure. He slowed his pace but deepened his thrusts, as though reading my mind.
“Jillian,” he said back, his voice hoarse. He took my chin between his teeth and my nails were raking against the dock boards, as though seeking sheets to grab in my fists. I clutched his shoulders instead, tipping my face against his collarbone and breathing in his scent and though I’d never been so close to him, it was utterly familiar to me. For a second I marveled at finding this passion with Justin, who I had known my entire life. Whose face Gran had always said was too pretty for a boy. Whose easy laughter and bright, teasing spirit had diminished so much in the past difficult years that Dodge worried his boy would never regain those things. Just as my family had feared for me. And in that moment I was struck forcefully by the knowledge that I loved him, was so in love with him that it had surely been building for years, just waiting for the moment of recognition. It burst like firebombs through my mind, my soul.
But I couldn’t tell him, I couldn’t risk that. Not yet.
“I knew…you’d be like this,” I managed to say instead, though my own breath was short. I twined my fingers again into his wild thick hair, ran my hands over his face, his chin scratchy with stubble. The edge of my thumb brushed his mouth and he bit it, before my hands continued their course over his neck, his shoulders, my hips moving with his, our bellies pressed tight. He was as sensual as I’d imagined in my most secretly-guarded thoughts.
He grinned at me, his lashes lowered, catching my mouth for one last kiss before he came again and I moaned against his lips, stroking his tongue with mine, quivering along my entire length. I noticed that the stars had rotated in the sky as I studied them with a sense of stunned wonder, holding him tightly. I recalled how Chris would always be concerned that his weight was squashing me, and how I’d explained time and again that I loved that part: the heaviness of a man’s body. To hold a satisfied man after making love was a necessary part of it, a wonderful part. I curved my arms more even snugly around Justin, sliding my fingernails over the back of his scalp. He shivered and his arms caught me closer, too.
“You’re still so hard,” I observed after a moment, my body so hungry for his that I was mildly alarmed at myself.
I felt him grin against my neck, like a naughty boy. Experimentally, I shifted and took him even deeper, and he muttered, “Jilly, you’re gonna kill me,” but he was kissing me passionately in the next instant, slanting his head over mine while I dug my fingernails into his tough shoulders. I shifted and then he allowed me to roll him to his back, not breaking our kiss, though I was forced to in order to ride him as hard as I wanted. I braced myself on his chest, remembering how my long hair used to swing wildly in this position, like a golden curtain. I felt free, uninhibited now, with no such restraint. His neck was bowed back as I worked over him, breathing hard, sweat trickling between my breasts and down my temples. He moaned again and again while volcanoes seemed to erupt through my lower belly. At the last moment he flipped me back under him, cradling me. I wouldn’t be able to walk back to my apartment unless I found a towel somewhere, and I almost giggled at the unseemly, though practical, thought.
“Holy…shit,” he pronounced against my neck, and the giggles I’d felt building in my chest came rolling out.
“You can say that again,” I whispered back once I’d caught my breath. I loved how he hadn’t left my body since we’d begun making love. Even in stillness he was filling me up, and I loved it. Tingling, jolting aftershocks of the force of our lovemaking kept rippling through me. He ran a hand down my side, coming to rest on my hip. He kissed my cheek, then traced the spot with the tip of his tongue. He whispered, his lips against my temple, “God, you’re so soft, Jilly.”
I shivered and giggled more, and then asked, only half-teasing, “Doesn’t your hard-on ever go away?”
He laughed as though in surprise, and then heartily, tickling my skin. He finally said, “Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve made love that I think I’ll be hard until sunrise.”
“Mmmmm,” I responded, pulling his face back to mine, possessively. I kissed him open-mouthed and he shuddered again and cupped my ass with both hands, drawing me solidly against his body. I gasped a little and knew I would be sore later today, but I didn’t give a fuck. I craved it. I wanted to feel him inside of me even after he’d gone home and this moment was just a memory.
Much later, probably just a half hour from the sun cresting the far shore, Justin cuddled me on his chest and breathed against my hair. He murmured, “You smell so good.”
“Like fresh fried fish?” I murmured, and he laughed, a rumble that vibrated through his chest.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to make love to you?” he asked, low, and then kissed my hair. “You drive me crazy, Jillian, and you smell fucking amazing.”
“Such a sweet talker,” I added, thrilled at his words, my cheek pressed to his chest, loving the feel of his hands as they stroked along my spine, like he was playing a harpsichord.
My eyes could barely stay open and the parts of me not glued to him were freezing, but I hated to move before forced. Although, shit, the womenfolk would be heading to the café shortly to get the first coffee going. What a sight we’d make down here in our nakedness. Gran would probably call out some heartfelt congratulations. Dodge would surely give his son the hiding we’d talked about once, long ago in another life, in Justin’s truck.
“We better get moving,” I said sleepily, at long last and with terrible reluctance.
He kissed my forehead, then tipped my chin and looked intently at me.
“God, you’ve got the most beautiful eyes, Jilly,” he said, and my heart melted.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I whispered back and pulled his lips to mine.
Both of us grew instantly aroused, but this wasn’t the time. With a shaky breath I made myself pull away and said again, “We gotta move.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, though his voice was pained. He drew me to my feet and we hurried into our clothes, probably covered in bug bites. No, surely covered. My ankles were itching even as I thought about it. The air was rapidly becoming silver now, objects taking on depth and texture. Suddenly I didn’t want daylight to arrive. I feared that what we’d shared would suddenly evaporate with the dawn, like a midnight spell. I threw my arms around him once more and held tight, and he drew in a deep breath and held me just as fiercely. Against my temple he whispered, “Thank you, Jillian.”
***
Later, in my own bed, I considered those words. When I thought about what we’d spent the better part of the night doing, my stomach soared and my heart pitched against my chest, over and over. I hugged myself around the middle and tipped my head against my forearms, drowning in my feelings. I was indeed sore, but it had been so magnificent. So incredibly worth it. The best sex of my life, if I wanted to be honest about it. And not just because it had been too long. Justin had discovered an untouched spot in my soul, one I hadn’t realized was the
re. But what, exactly, had he meant by ‘thank you’?
I fell asleep with this sobering, unresolved question in my mind. By the time I woke again it was nearly eleven and I knew I had to hustle to get ready in time for lunch. I showered, though reluctantly, as Justin’s scent was still clinging to my body. Had he stopped out with Dodge for coffee this morning, like usual? My belly fluttered again at the thought but I was disappointed I may have missed him. Surely had, by now, since he started his day at the filling station by nine.
I jogged over the lake path, my heart and feet both light, a smile lingering on my lips despite the slight twinges of pain I was experiencing below, a reaction to the wealth of sex after years of none. Gran would guess in an instant if I wasn’t careful. Inside Mom was talking to Rich at one of the booths, both of them holding their coffee mugs, while Blythe was brushing down the grill in the kitchen. I waved to everyone and found my own cup on the shelf, filled it to the brim. Ellen popped her head around from the bar to say good morning; no one seemed inclined to question why I was so late and obviously just out of bed, so my stomach relaxed a little. I found myself scanning the parking lot for signs of Justin’s silver truck, even though there was no way he’d be out here before evening, if then. Would he call? Should I call him? I wanted to hear his voice. My heart gained momentum just thinking about it. If I was honest, I didn’t want to just talk to him. I felt like a dam that had burst open and was currently flooding its gates. I almost giggled at the thought.
“Hey, Jills,” said Bly from behind me. “Morning. You want a couple eggs or anything?”
A Notion of Love Page 10