Truly, Madly, Deeply

by L. S. Scott

  “No, not at the moment,” I answered.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  “Knock yourself out,” I replied.

  The stranger sat beside me and held out a sand covered hand. We both looked down at his hand and laughed as he dusted it off then extended it again.

  “My names Chase,” he said with a pearly smile.

  “Natalie,” I said, taking his hand.

  “So, you’re from Prairieview?” he asked.

  “Yep,” I responded in short answer mode, my preferred method of communication when I was nervous.

  It wasn’t the teenage boy beside me that made me nervous. It was the irrational fear that somehow, Jaron would know that I was sitting half naked on a beach talking to a boy.

  “We’re from Layton. Senior skip day?”

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Yep.”

  He smiled over at me and though I couldn’t see his eyes I was 99% sure they were focused a little lower than they should be.

  We sat and chatted casually for the better part of an hour. When Tiffany finally came out of the water, she ran over, introduced herself curtly, then pulled me to my feet and forced me to play volleyball. It was bad enough to be lying out in my teeny weeny bikini, but bouncing around playing volleyball sounded like a really bad idea. She rolled her eyes and pulled a white wife beater out of her bag.

  “Here, put this on and stop whining.”

  I slipped it on, and though it was skin tight and you could see through it, it made me feel a little less exposed.

  “Oh shit!” I grunted after several games.

  “What’s wrong,” Tiffany asked concerned.

  “It’s 3:30. You have to take me to my truck, now,” I said panicked.

  “What? We have hours of daylight left,” she whined.

  “Tiffany, don’t do this to me. You know I have to go.”

  She could see the anxiety in my eyes and relented.

  “I wish you could have stayed longer,” she said as her car rolled to a stop beside my Bronco.

  “Me too. But I had a blast. Thanks for making me go,” I smiled at her.

  “Love ya bitch. Be careful, don’t speed trying to get home to the master,” she said sarcastically.

  I rolled my eyes and jumped into my truck. I adjusted my bra strap as I drove and noticed it felt unusually uncomfortable. I checked myself in the mirror and my heart dropped into my stomach. The hint of a sunburn had started to show on my nose. I pulled my shirt off my shoulder. The tan line from my bikini was also becoming more pronounced as my skin turned.

  I felt sick. I would have to come up with something, something that would cause the least amount of yelling possible. I decided I would tell him I skipped the last two periods of school with Tiffany and we lay out by her pool for a couple hours. He would frown and grumble about me not calling, but would probably be over it by dinner. By the time I got to the front door, my bladder was about to explode.

  “Hey babe,” I called, tossing my stuff on the entry table and bee lining to the bathroom.

  I sighed in relief as my bladder deflated and sat a few seconds to gather my thoughts and build up my resolve. A quick check in the mirror and it was clear I had no choice, the second he saw me without a shirt he would know.

  Jaron was standing with his back against the counter when I rounded the corner into the kitchen. I smiled at him before pulling the refrigerator door open.

  “You have a good day at school,” he asked.

  “Yeah, I” my voice cracked and my words got stuck in my throat when I turned around and saw the look on his face.

  “You missed a call,” he said in a monotone, holding my cell phone up for me to see.

  “Who was it,” I asked, trying to stay calm.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he played a voicemail over the speaker.

  “Hey Natalie, this is Chase. Hope you don’t mind I snaked your phone while you were playing volleyball. And by the way, you playing volleyball in that bikini, wow. Um, anyway, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and I really want to see you again. So, please, call me.”

  I set my Dr. Pepper on the counter beside me, moving slowly as if I were standing before a snarling dog and trying not to cause him to attack. The muscles in Jaron’s jaw twitched and his nostrils flared and his eyes glowed electric blue, charged with anger.

  I swallowed hard. “Jaron, let me….”

  Before I could get out another word, my cell phone whizzed by my head and slammed into the cabinet door. Pieces of it littered the kitchen. Fight or flight kicked in and I fled, down the hall to the bathroom. I locked the door and slid down the wall in the corner, trying to slow my heart rate that painfully drummed against my chest.

  “Open the door!” he yelled, banging once with his fist.

  “Calm down first,” I answered shakily.

  “Open the God Damn door!” another bang.

  “Jaron please,” the door flew open.

  Shards of splintered wood from the door frame landed on the counter and floor around me. I looked up at him, standing in the broken doorway, seething. He started unbuckling his belt and pulled it from around his waist. The sound of the leather clearing the belt loops made my stomach knot.

  “Get up,” he ordered as he doubled the belt in his hand.

  “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” I cried, sliding up the wall, holding my hands up in front of me.

  “Turn around,” he growled.

  “Jaron no, please don’t,” the tears began to roll.

  The last ass whipping I got hurt like hell, and I was wearing jeans then. The thought of getting another, wearing shorts, half sunburned, was unthinkable.

  “TURN! AROUND!” he growled.

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head, sobbing uncontrollably. Resigned to my fate, I turned and place my hands and cheek against the wall. I opened my eyes and glanced up at him, meeting his glare for only a second, before squeezing them tightly and sucking in a deep breath to ready myself for the pain.

  I waited. My eyes opened to the sound of the buckle clanging against the floor. Jaron’s eyes darted around my body, my face leaned against the wall, ass out, knees shaking. In one swift movement he stood behind me, one hand pressing into my stomach, one hand around my throat. There was no pressure, no choking, just a demonstration of pure dominance. I clutched at his thighs, digging my nails into the denim of his jeans.

  With my body held tight against his, he walked us down the hall to the bedroom. I didn’t speak, overwhelmingly grateful the belt was no longer in play. Stopping at the foot of our bed, he pressed his hand between my legs, squeezing and pushing me hard against him. A breathless whimper escaped my lips, made ragged by my crying.

  He breathed a low, angry growl into my ear as he scraped it with his teeth. He released me, stripped me, and put me face down on the bed. I clutched the blanket, taking deep breaths to steady myself. I gasped when his fingers slid into me quickly. He crouched over me, his digits still deep inside, pushing so hard he almost lifted me from the bed.

  “Who do you belong to Natalie,” he hissed in my ear.

  I panted, trying to catch my breath and form the words.

  “Answer me,” he growled.

  “You, Jaron, I belong to you,” I answered, my words disjointed.

  Satisfied, he rose behind me and lifted my hips to meet his. He rammed himself inside me, sliding easily through my soft, wet passage. I moaned, deep, long and low. His fingertips dug into my hips as he set a brutal pace, not relenting for one second to the cries of his name on my lips.

  When my arms could no longer hold me up, I collapsed on the bed, my rump still sticking high in the air. A low groan of approval rumbled from deep in Jaron’s chest and he finally slowed, pressing as deep inside me as he could. He squeezed my ass hard with both hands before pulling back and coming down hard on my right cheek. My eyes opened wide at the sound and the sting of my skin. Reflexively, my hips bucked against his still body. Jaron chuckled wicke
dly and spatted me again. I moaned and bucked and grinded harder.

  “You like that don’t you,” he taunted, before swatting me three more times.

  My skin burned and my body ached, my core was wound so tight. He pressed his body weight into me, flattening me out on the bed. Without separating us, he rolled us to the side, his hand between my legs. He worked my clit furiously as I rolled my hips, frantically chasing my orgasm.

  “That’s it. Fuck me baby,” he hissed.

  My body seized at the sound of his voice. Clutching, and squeezing desperately at him inside me.

  “Oh, fuucck,” he moaned as I pulled him over the edge with me.

  He held me tight against him, still inside me for a long while after our bodies were appeased. I kept silent, unsure of his level of irritation.

  “So, bikini volleyball?” His voice was hoarse and stern but less incensed.

  I swallowed hard and pressed his fingers to my lips, “I’m sorry,” I whimpered.

  He eased out of me and rolled me over to face him. Stone faced he looked at me, pushing me hair away from my shoulder and running his fingers lightly over my reddened skin.

  “Am I ever gonna be enough for you,” he questioned, his eyes sad under his furrowed brow. His words like a dagger to my heart.

  “What?” I responded, shocked.

  He drilled me with a dejected look. I rose up on my elbow.

  “How could you think for one second that you’re not enough?”

  “It’s always something Natalie.”

  “Today was senior skip day Jaron, that’s all. I don’t even know the guy on my phone.”

  “He knows you.”

  “He talked to me, and I swear, the second he walked up to me the only thing I could think was how I’m not interest in boys like him because I have a man like you.”

  “Hmph,” he snorted and rolled over onto his back. “You’re going to graduate in a few weeks and then you want to go off to college, even though you have a man like me to take care of you.”

  “Jaron, I told you why I want to go to college. Even though, I hope that you are here to take care of me for the rest of my life, I need to know that I can take of myself and a college degree is the reassurance I need.”

  “Yeah, but the U of A is like three hours away.”

  “The U of A? What makes you think I want to go to the U of A?”

  “I heard you talking to Chad at Thanksgiving,” he shrugged.

  “Well, it was on the top of the list at one time, but that was before you. I don’t have to go away Jaron. There’s a couple of good school’s within driving distance. You’ve just got to trust me baby.”

  “Hmph,” he snorted, again.

  “What?”

  “You’re not exactly the poster child for honesty, Natalie.”

  “Whoa, that was a little insulting.”

  “Well, every time I turn around you’re lying to me. If I didn’t love you so damn much I would’ve said fuck it already.”

  I bowed my head and looked at him, aghast. I pushed away and bolted to the bathroom, my feelings crushed. I shut the door and locked it, something I don’t usually do. The handle jiggled as I finished peeing. I flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to wash up and ignored the soft tapping that sounded on the other side of the door.

  “Open the door Natalie, please,” he begged softly.

  “Why?” I snipped, reaching into the cabinet for the aloe vera.

  “I wanna talk.”

  “Why? I’m just a liar anyway,” I threw at him.

  “Natalie, come on, open the door. I don’t want to have to replace two doors this weekend.” his voice was more insistent. I rolled my eyes and unlocked it.

  He stepped in behind me watching me in the mirror as I smeared the cool gel over my shoulders, refusing to look him in the eye. He opened the drawer and took out a hair clip then began piling my hair loosely on top of my head. He took the aloe and squeezed some in his hand and rubbed it gently into the back of my neck and shoulder blades.

  “It’s not too bad back here,” he observed. “I think your shoulders got the worst of it.”

  “Yeah, they usually do,” I said disinterested, still not looking at him.

  He placed a hand on the counter on either side of me and leaned down to my level to look at me in the mirror.

  “Look at me,” he insisted. Knowing that he wasn’t going to give up, I surrendered and met his gaze.

  “I about lost it earlier Natalie,” he said solemnly. “And it’s because you were dishonest with me, again.”

  “It’s not like that. I had no intention of going, but Tiffany talked me into it before school started.”

  “But you weren’t going to tell me when you got home, were you?”

  “Yes. I mean look at me. It’s not like you wouldn’t have noticed the sunburn,” I reasoned.

  “And exactly what were you going to say,” he quizzed.

  I chewed on my lip in deliberation.

  “See, you’re trying to think of a lie right now,” he accused.

  I huffed, rolled my eyes and shook my head angrily and looked away but he held his place.

  “Look at me,” he ordered again.

  I brought my focus back to his accusing blue eyes.

  “You had to have had a plan. How were you going to explain this to me?” I didn’t answer. “Come on Natalie, if you want me to trust you, now’s as good a time as any to start telling the truth. Were you going to tell me that you spent the day playing volleyball in a bikini with a bunch of guys?” His jaw started clenching and twitching as he stared me down and waited for me to respond. “Speak,” he hissed.

  “I was going to tell you that we skipped the last two hours of school and lay out by Tiffany’s pool.”

  He rubbed his lips together and nodded slightly.

  “And what did you really do?”

  “We went to Spring Lake. Most of the class was there. We played volleyball and swam. That’s it.”

  “And who is Chase?”

  “He’s a guy from Layton. Him and a few of his friends hung out with us, but I swear I just talked to him for a minute. He must’ve got my number when I was playing volleyball.”

  “In your bikini,” he specified flatly.

  “Yes. But I wore a tank top over it.”

  He stared at me for a painfully silent minute.

  “See, was that so hard,” he asked, a look of utter disappointment on his face. My lip started to quiver.

  “No sense in crying now, it’s over,” he said matter of factly. “Pizza and a movie ok for dinner?”

  He rested his chin on the top of my head and met my eyes in the mirror.

  I nodded enthusiastically. I had honestly grown to love and appreciate the dinner ritual, but eating pizza, cuddled up on the couch watching television was a treat. Jaron smiled and winked and disappeared into the bedroom.

  Wedged cozily between Jaron’s side and the back of the couch, my eyes were focused on the television screen. “I’m your huckleberry,” I watched Doc Holliday’s lips move and knew the line by heart, but I didn’t hear it. I was focused on the sound of Jaron’s heartbeat and the hypnotizing rise and fall of his bare chest under my cheek. He had one arm around me and the other stretched up under the back of his head, elongating his fabulous torso on the left side. His pj’s had been pushed down slightly, revealing just a little extra peak of that gorgeous little dip at his hip. I wondered as I looked at him, if he worked out while I was gone to school, doing hundreds of push-ups and sit ups, to sculpt the piece of art that hid under his shirt. I took a deep breath and sighed audibly.

  “What is it,” he asked softly, still staring at the tv.

  I contemplated before answering. “You’re just so freaking perfect,” I answered, running my fingers over the ridges of his abs.

  “Hmph,” he smirked doubtfully. I ignored his reaction and continued thinking out loud.

  “Thank you for not whipping me.”

  He
swallowed hard, “You’re welcome.”

  “Why didn’t you?” my words came out almost a whisper.

  He took a deep breath.

  “Because you turned me on so damn bad, pressed up against the wall with your little ass sticking out, and your legs trembling.”

  His eyes remained on the movie, but his arm tightened around me.

  “Wow. That’s so sweet,” I said sarcastically. I felt a silent chuckle vibrate in his chest.

  “Just being honest.” I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the wicked little smile creep across it.

  His fingers absent mindedly trailed across the small of my back, slipping under the waist band of my white cotton panties from time to time. I pressed my lips to his chest and placed a wet kiss right above his nipple.

  “Easy, don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned in a low husky tone.

  Just the sound of his voice made my thigh tighten around his hip, pulling me closer to him. A low, “mmmm,” left his body on an exhale.

  I kissed him again, closer to the erect nipple at the center of his hard muscle, letting my hand roam freely around his bare mid-section. His fingers gathered a handful of the white cotton covering my butt and pulled it upward, giving me the most pleasurable wedgie I had ever had. With my next kiss, I captured his nipple with my lips, French kissing it softly.

  “God, Natalie,” he moaned as my mouth caressed his nipple sweetly and my hand hovered under his belly button.

  His right hand tugged at my panties, working them back and forth and his left came down and slid into my hair. He made an effort to lift my head, his lips begging for the same attention I was lavishing on his nipple.

  “Uh, uh, uh,” I refused, my lips still touching his skin.

  He relented and let go of my hair, and used his free hand to push my hand down, imploring me to take hold of the bulge in his pajamas.

  “No,” I snapped, pulling my hand from his and grabbing his wrist.

  I lifted my head and shifted my body, straddling his leg and pulling his hand up behind his head. I stared down at him, reaching behind me to retrieve his other hand; I placed it behind his head as well. He clasped his hands together, eyeing me curiously.

  I had been laying there admiring his body for close to an hour. In our impassioned flurries, I didn’t take the time to truly appreciate all of him, and that is what I intended to do. After being so forgiving of me, he deserved it.