Losing Faith (Surfers Way)

by Jennifer Ryder

  “I’m sore everywhere,” I complain as we get into the shower.

  Smack!

  “How about there?” Quade pulls his hand away from my bum cheek, turns me to face him and forces my arms behind my back.

  Oh no he didn’t. Does he really think that’s going to save him from retaliation?

  I push my boobs out towards him, which draws his gaze to my chest. “You think I don’t like that?” I taunt, widening my eyes at him.

  “I know you do,” he teases. Smack! He connects with my right cheek this time.

  I tilt my head to the side and raise my eyebrows. “Sleep with one eye open, Quade,” I say in a slow, measured tone, drilling him with my gaze.

  “With this fiery girl in my bed, trust me, I won’t be getting any sleep.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Hopefully Mum won’t be pissed because I didn’t even think to tell her I wasn’t coming home last night.” Because I’m always at home. I never have “sleepovers”.

  “Want me to talk to her?” Quade offers in a bubbly voice.

  What a suck-up. He knows my mother would melt in the palm of his hands. “You know full well you’d just have to flash those perfect teeth at her and all would be forgiven.”

  “It’s simple then. Let me have a little pow-wow with her. Then everyone’s happy.” He chuckles as we pull into my driveway. The gates are open, so I’m assuming Dad has taken Charlie for a walk. I’m glad he’s doing something outside of the house and the Palace. Hopefully Charlie wasn’t scratching on my door half the night.

  “Whose car is that?” Quade asks, pointing to the dusty red Holden Barina with spider webs taking over the side mirrors. Thanks to Dad leaving the garage door open, Quade’s seen it, and a can of worms might just be about to be opened. Dammit. I haven’t driven my car since graduation. I haven’t been able to bring myself to learn to drive a murder weapon.

  Blood rushes to my cheeks. I really wish he hadn’t discovered it. I don’t want to have to explain to him why I don’t drive. “It’s, ah, mine.”

  “Ah, that’s right. You used to call it the Speed Demon. Doesn’t look like it gets driven much.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  He places his hand on the back of my headrest and turns his upper body to face me. “You got your licence, though, right?”

  “Um, well, no.”

  “Why, Lace? You were always so keen on having your independence, being able to drive around wherever you pleased. You even talked about a road trip to Byron Bay.”

  As if I could forget. The road trip that Mack, Faith and I had planned for Easter the year following graduation. It’s hard to imagine it now with Faith gone and Mack being completely off-grid.

  “I live in a small town. I don’t ever leave. Besides, I don’t know whether I can handle the responsibility. I mean, there are kids on pushbikes and scooters and they hog the road, and I just don’t know. Anyway, I’m saving the environment and getting exercise. It’s a win-win, really.”

  “You’re not going to kill anyone, Lace.”

  My mouth pops open. How does he know? I mean, is it spelt out on my forehead or something? I’m scared. “H-how do you know that?” I protest.

  “Because you’re not. If you need practice, I can teach you. Is your learner’s permit current?”

  Um, what? He’s going to teach me to drive?

  “Yes, it’s current.” That was one thing my father had insisted on. He said one day I’d realise I was being silly about the whole driving thing and even went with the whole “Faith would want you to drive” angle.

  “Good. Maybe on the weekend we can go for a drive.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I tell him, scratching at the back of my neck.

  “We can take it slow, Lace.”

  Slow, huh? I look back up to my neglected vehicle and sigh. Maybe I can handle slow. Like drive-everywhere-twenty-kilometres-an-hour slow.

  I turn my attention back to Quade and plant a loud kiss on his lips. “How long do I have to wait until you get off work?” I ask.

  “Hmm,” he hums against my mouth. “I’ll be done at around three-thirty. You?”

  My shoulders slump, knowing I’m working tonight, even though it’s just through the rush with Lily. “I start at the Palace at five-thirty.”

  “Then I’ve got two hours with you, and we’re gonna make the most of every second.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you out front of the schoolyard then.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  ---

  Submitting my assignment by lunchtime today leaves me too much time on my hands, so I busy myself printing posters for Cameron at the pub.

  Don’t let a drunk mate walk home.

  It breaks my heart every time I read those seven words.

  I slip the posters into an envelope and put it in my satchel to drop into the pub later.

  Still having time up my sleeve, and dying to see the man that took my body into another world last night, I get to the school at three.

  Half an hour later, my nerves are fully shot. I know I didn’t do myself any favours having the super-strong espresso from Willow’s Café on my way here, but watching the chaos that is the school car park at the end of the day … holy crap. I couldn’t help but watch all the small people like a hawk. The way some of them would tear out of the gate and from the safety of their parents’ grasps had me jumping around like a tennis player ready to return serve … except in this case, return serve meant save a child from becoming roadkill.

  And the cars? Some drivers barely slowed down to the forty kilometres per hour limit, and a P-plater barely waited for me to get across the white stripes before he rocketed through in his shitty yellow Corolla.

  I felt like standing in the middle of the crossing and yelling at drivers “children cross here, numbnuts”. After today, I’m seriously considering volunteering as a lollypop lady.

  I lean back against Quade’s car, close my eyes, and let the sunshine soak into my skin, breathing deep.

  “Hey,” a deep voice jokes in my ear. Smartarse. His delicious aftershave registers, and then I open my eyes. Arms slip around my waist. Quade licks at the lobe of my ear. I nearly swallow my own tongue.

  “I’m gonna be a lollypop,” I whisper.

  “You what?” he asks through a chuckle, leaning back and scanning my face as his eyebrows draw together.

  “Shush. You distracted me. I meant to say I’m gonna be a lollypop lady,” I tell him.

  “Oh, ’cause that makes so much more sense than before.”

  I poke at his chest with my index finger. “Lick me,” I provoke.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing, Lace. One thing, though—whilst it’s improving, I still think we’ve got a bit of work to do on this bite of yours.”

  I laugh softly and tug on the collar of his polo shirt. “So you lick, and I bite, huh?”

  He leans in close enough that his warm breath tickles at my lips. Goosebumps ripple over my skin. “What did you think I had planned for the next two hours?”

  I swallow the large lump in my throat and walk around to the passenger side of his truck. Quade’s long legs don’t move from where they’re planted in front of his headlights. A giant grin curls at his lips.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” I grumble, tugging on the door handle.

  We both get into the car. Quade runs his hand up my thigh, squeezing it at the top, just beneath the frayed hem of my shorts.

  “You’re wearing denim shorts. You know what they do to me, Lace. What they’ve always done to me.”

  “And what’s that?” I tease, revelling in the goosebumps which prickle at my skin with his touch. Wearing the denim was definitely a calculated move on my part.

  “You know,” he grumbles and starts the car. I do a mental calculation of exactly how many minutes it will take to get to his house by road.

  His phone rings, breaking my concentration. He taps the display and holds the phone to his e
ar.

  “Yeah,” he says. He turns and looks to me with a smile, then wrangles with his seatbelt, clicking it into place.

  “Yep … Aha … sounds good, mate.” He hangs up and puts his phone in the cup holder.

  “Who was that?” I ask. Much of a busy-body?

  His eyebrows pull together. “Ah, Jack wants to catch up soon,” he says as he reverses, diverting his gaze to the rear-vision mirror.

  “That’d be nice.” I’d really liked meeting Jack and Susie. They were super friendly at dinner at the pub that night.

  “Yeah, I’ll have to have them over for a barbie at my place one of these days.”

  I reach my hand over and place it on his thigh. “That invitation extend to me?” My hand wanders higher up his leg.

  “We’re together. The idea is we do stuff. As a couple.” Quade places his hand over mine and pushes it up so it cups his package. “Speaking of ideas, I got something in mind,” he challenges.

  The bulge in his pants twitches against my palm. Hmm. It causes an instant reaction in my underwear. I swear some days I just have to look at him and my body not-so-subtly tells me it’s ready to get naked. “You’re an ideas man. Can’t wait to hear your grand plan.”

  “There’s a little something in the plastic bag down there,” he says, pointing to the white bag at my feet.

  I open it up, revealing a small black box. It has me wanting to start shedding my clothes, but I won’t because we’re in the school car park, for heaven’s sake. Knowing my luck, even putting my hand on Quade’s leg would mean I’d have Sargent Wilson tapping at my window.

  I flip over the box and inspect it more closely. “Ribbed for her … oh,” I say, and turn to Quade.

  “Yup. I’m an ideas man. Let’s see if we can get through the box.”

  ---

  Anticipation thrums through my veins, tingling out to my fingers and toes as we walk through the entry in Quade’s house. It might also have something to do with the box in my hand.

  The front door slams. My heart kicks against my ribcage.

  “You won’t be needing clothes, Lace, so I’d get on that real quick if I were you,” Quade says in a playful tone.

  I swing around to face a bare-chested Quade with flushed cheeks. His blue eyes are filled with lust. Heat creeps up my chest, resting on my face. This boy … sigh.

  In a swift move, I peel my top over my head and fling it at him. Quade’s shorts are on the floor the moment my top lands on his shoulder.

  “You’re in a hurry,” I taunt, wrestling behind my back with the clasp of my bra.

  “Got three years of catchin’ up to do,” he says, and whips down his snug grey boxers. I hum in the back of my throat when my eyes land on his hard length.

  “Don’t just stare at it, babe,” Quade says through a chuckle.

  I toss my bra at him. It lands like a quoit on his proud member, dangling from its strap.

  “Score!” I cheer, raising my hands above my head in triumph.

  He tosses the bra aside and is within inches of me before I can blink. “Yet another talent,” Quade grumbles and reaches out, trailing his fingertips down my chest. He tinkers with each nipple, teasing them until they become hard. I swat his hands away, unsure whether the sensation is too ticklish or painful. He lets out a low whistle and then kneels at my feet.

  Breath rushes from my lungs as he slides down the zip, slipping my shorts a little farther down my hips. On instinct my fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him to me. He presses a kiss to the lace fabric of my underwear. Dear God. A loud moan vibrates at the back of my throat. He blows hot air against my stomach and kisses lower this time.

  My shorts are tugged until they drop at my feet. Quade pushes me backwards, the armchair of the couch resting beneath my bum.

  He looks up, crystal blues filled with lust, need—reflecting what’s going on inside of me. I thought I wanted him bad yesterday … today? I’d do just about anything to have him. Like tying Mrs Prescott up to stop her from banging down his door.

  “For the next two hours, I won’t be taking my hands or my mouth off you,” he says in a hoarse voice. Fingers hook into the band of my G-string and guide the fabric to my toes.

  “You stole the words right out of my mouth,” I whisper, moving my feet free from the last of my clothes.

  Strong hands grip my thighs just above my knee and slowly push them apart. Hot kisses rain on my skin from my belly button, lower, lower, until his tongue slides against my sensitive clit. I throw my head back and close my eyes, taking pleasure in the firm grip of his fingers at my hips, and the slow, soft rhythm of his mouth as it moves my body into another dimension. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was floating.

  I cry out as my fingers claw into the couch. My toes begin to cramp. Waves of pleasure are set to wash over me.

  Then his mouth is gone.

  No. Don’t stop.

  Blurry-eyed I glance down as Quade rifles with the box of tricks.

  “Turn around,” he says as he stands, rolling a condom down his length with both hands. Ooh, I like the sound of this.

  I swing my body around, stumbling on my jelly legs. Positioning myself on the armrest, I rest my hips on the soft padding of the couch. I spread my legs wider, opening myself up to him. With anyone else I’d feel vulnerable, but not Quade. Not this man. I’d do anything for him. I know that with him I don’t need to be afraid. Finally, we’re together. Finally, I can explore my sexuality with the one person who’s always held me in the palm of his hand.

  Quade trails his fingertips from the back of my knees until he grips my arse cheeks. I coo as he slips a finger inside me. Each measured thrust has my head swirling and my insides dancing.

  “You,” he says and huffs out a breath.

  The heat of his legs against the back of mine sends a burst of excitement through my wired body. He teases me with the tip of his cock, sliding it between the wetness between my legs. In a slow burst he enters me a short way, then drives in farther and farther until I know he’s all the way in. Heaven.

  “Quade,” I mumble, fisting the pillow on the couch, bracing myself for the O that I know is coming.

  “I wish you could see what I see,” Quade says, pulling out to the tip and then sliding back in until I arch my back.

  “The back of my head?” I joke, and swing around as far as I can go so I can see him.

  A seriousness has taken over his gaze. “Just this. Us. This has been a fantasy for a long time.”

  I huff out a breath through my nose and take a breath in through my mouth. My heart is beating so hard I swear it’s about to burst. “Make me come,” I blurt out.

  A cheeky smile curls at his lips. “Your wish is my dream come true.”

  The pace of his rolling hips get faster with each thrust. The wooden legs of the couch grate on the timber floor. I’m moaning, out of control. Quade is huffing.

  As our sounds fill the small room, I let myself go. Sparks fly behind my eyelids. A scream rips from my mouth. An electric charge shoots through to every cell in my body. I come, pulsing around Quade as he moves inside me.

  “I love it when you scream,” he says. Quade grips my hips. He drives into me faster. The waves still wash over me. With a guttural moan, Quade comes. Feeling him throbbing inside me has me greedy. I want more, but can I move?

  I try to push myself up to stand but my muscles fail me. They’re shaking, like crazy. I’ve been reduced to a pile of sexually satisfied marshmallow.

  Quade withdraws from me. A moment later he hauls me up and carries me out of the room.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, blinking to get my bearings.

  “Shower,” he grunts.

  “Hmm, that’d be nice,” I say in a sleepy voice.

  He sets me down on my feet. I place my palm on the wall to keep me upright while he flicks on the tap.

  Slap!

  Quade’s hand lands with a solid slap to my arse cheek. Judging by th
e sound it should sting, but this feeling of euphoria is doing a good job of numbing it.

  “Uh-uh. No getting tired, Lace. I told you. For two hours you’re mine.”

  “You’re wrong. You have me for forever, Quade.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Shit. I can’t believe you let me fall asleep,” I curse as I pull my shorts on. I act annoyed but really, I was just so tired from all the sex. The glorious, making-up-for-lost-time kind of sex that robs your body of every last smidgen of energy.

  “Ah, sorry, babe. I’m just so …” He sighs. A lazy smile creeps over his lips.

  “Exhausted?” I offer as I fasten the hooks on my bra and slide the straps over my shoulders.

  “Happy,” he says. “Yup. Happy.”

  I place my hand over my heart as his statement echoes in my ears. Happy. For such a simple word, it brings on such a flood of emotions. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Quade throws on a T-shirt, shorts and thongs. After finally locating all my belongings, we jump in his car. I fix my hair on the way.

  Quade pulls the car up in front of the front of the Palace. Lily’s red moped is parked beside us. I’m letting her down, too. I plant a quick kiss on his lips and pull out the envelope from my bag.

  “Can you please do me a huge favour and drop these into Cam at the pub for me?” I ask Quade, handing him the papers.

  “Only if they’re really important,” he says, and gives me a lopsided grin.

  I roll my eyes at his attempt to be all funny and race through the front door of the shop. I seek Dad out so I can apologise the second I see him. It doesn’t take long to find him. He’s on the phone, busily scrawling on the pad beside him on the wall. I dump my bag out the back, wash my hands and pull a clean black apron from the shelf.

  When he hangs up, I walk over to him and place my hand on his shoulder. Twenty-five minutes late is a pretty poor effort on my part. “Dad, I’m sorry—”

  “Take de counter. Lily will look after de phone and clear de tables in de courtyard. I’ll be out back.”