"Are you kidding?!"
"Baby," she says gently. "What are you afraid of? It's Tammy."
I am afraid. And Stacy can't help me.
I'm riding with a stranger. That's why I'm afraid. I'm alone, with a guy I've always loved, but in truth, a guy I don't really know. I'm afraid, and it's all I can do not to lose my shit. Somehow, holding his hand tightly is helping me to stay calm. Whenever he takes it away to make turns, I'm ready to disintegrate.
The worst is, I have no idea what to expect. The fact that I've agreed to go home with him assuredly has him assuming we'll have sex.
How do I tell him? That I'm afraid? That I have issues? That I've never had sex, with anyone (willingly)? That, aside from him, I've never let anyone touch or kiss me except for Lloyd and Stacy?
That he's my first? That he's my only in all my thirty-one years?
That he's the only one I want to do this with?!
How do I tell him? And will he laugh? Will he think I'm a freak? Worse, will he get angry if I find that I can't? Will he call me a cock-tease? Will he force me?!
I don't know him. Not like I'd like to think I do.
That's the hard, cold truth. He's taller, heavier and stronger. He could rape me as soon as he gets me into his house.
I begin to shrink into myself. The scars on my ankles begin to sting.
I hear my biological father's voice:
Come on, Pretty. Open for Daddy.
My eyes are dry and tearless, and I blink repeatedly, trying to moisten them. We pass the road to my house, and I want to leap from the car and run home, all the way, to my house, to my kids, to the mundane safety and blessed routine that lives behind those wonderful locks and deadbolts.
Please, God, I pray silently. Please help me. Please don't let Tammy be a bad guy. Please let it be that he loves me as much as I love him. I think he loves me, but I don't know for sure. I didn't plan this, God. I didn't plan anything. He came home and it's happening. I want this. I want him. I love him. Please, don't be mad. Please help me. Please...
I need Him to help me to trust, to not be afraid.
I need Tammy to be for real.
God, I'll die if he isn't.
nineteen:
tammy
(christmas eve)
He's all I want. He's all I've ever wanted. I have spent the better part of my life prowling around clubs and parties when I should have been here, with him. We should have been together. Because this is meant to be. I'll never be happy without him. His is the only face I can see when I close my eyes.
I still sense what I've always sensed about him. He's vulnerable. Some asshole burned him bad. I've got to be careful. I won't force him. What I'm hoping is to make him willing. I can't take much more. I'm ready to go crazy.
It's quiet as I drive. We don't try to talk just to prevent awkward silence. We don't need to. I feel this invisible thing in the car with us. We're so keenly aware of each other. His hand seeks mine, takes it, wraps snugly around it, and it's almost more erotic that when we made out a while ago.
I try to distract myself with traffic and road signs, but nothing works. I remember how he pulled me to him and kissed me so fiercely. Before today, I don't remember ever really kissing anyone, where the kisses are completely fulfilling in and of themselves, not just an appetiser. All by themselves, they are terrifyingly real and maddeningly sexy.
I remember Ray's drive, almost twenty years ago—that was real too—oh God, it was so real...
He says he likes Mom's house, but the skittish look in his eyes tells me he's not here, with the carpet, furniture, TV or the faint scent of cinnamon from the Christmas Airwick freshener she sprays around this time of year. Even when I introduce him to Tillie, Mom's ancient tortoise-shell/Persian, he just nods fretfully, ready to faint, pale as a ghost, his chin tucked down into his neck.
I've got to try to put him at ease. If he's been burned, it's going to be hard for him to trust me. I have to earn it.
I can't believe how much I've changed since I saw him last. I don't recognise myself. I'm so glad.
I turn on my computer and show him the articles I've written for the newsletter at the Glendale Animal Shelter and Purrfect Peace Cat Sanctuary. "You're such a great writer," he says. "I wish I could write stories." Then he takes me to the website he made for Mr. Tafford, and I'm moved by what he's created. He has written a story, a beautiful tribute to his dad.
"It's awesome, Jamie." He turns to me and smiles. The ice chips are flying.
I turn on the TV and VCR. "What do you want to watch?"
"I don't care," he says, anxious again.
"I'm not into primetime TV, are you?"
"No, I like movies better."
"What kind? Action movies? Sci-fi? Horror?"
"No, no horror for me!" He's trying to laugh, but I see something else. "I can't even watch Indiana Jones. I hate any movies that have people being burned."
I'm about to ask about this when he says, "What I really love are old movies—the kind with Cary Grant, John Wayne, Bob Hope—that stuff."
I'm delighted. I put on my most recent favourite movie, Bringing Up Baby.
"I had you figured for the type who loves blockbusters," says Jamie, reading the VHS cover. He's still nervous. Tillie jumps silently onto the couch with us. Within three minutes, Jamie is her new best bud. She sits on his lap, purring and kneading.
"I can't believe how much of a cat lover you are," Jamie says. "You just don't look the type. You always seemed more like a dog person."
If I ever told Jamie how I used to treat poor little Cotton, what would he think of me?
"Remember that night we were talking about me being the next Dr. Doolittle?"
"Yeah, what happened?"
"It took less time and money to become a nurse."
"I never knew how much I loved cats until I met Bootsy," I smile. "I'm going to open my own cat shelter one day."
He lights up. "Yeah?"
"Uh huh. I can't seem to think of a cool name though, like Purrfect Peace."
"I think Lloyd would have opened his own shelter one day if he had been healthier. He was always taking in stray cats."
I ask, "Where did you take him... his ashes?"
"Fort Bragg."
"I've never heard of it."
"It's up past San Francisco, on the coast."
"I love the ocean! I wish I could live there."
Jamie gasps, "Me too! I'm trying to save some money so I can move there. It's all I've ever wanted!"
I smile at his enthusiasm until he flushes. "Maybe we could start a cat sanctuary, on the coast."
He searches my eyes, wonders if I'm serious. "I've always wanted a little house, like a little cottage or a farmhouse, on a hill, about five or ten minutes walk from the water. The cats can run all over the property."
"No cages," I say.
"Exactly!"
"We could name it after Lloyd."
"Yeah?"
"Of course."
He looks away, his chest heaving. "I miss him."
"I know, Baby."
"He was so good to me. What am I going to do without him?" He blinks, splattering tears.
"Hey! You're doing okay."
He speaks rapidly, his breath hitching, "No... not really, Tammy. I thought I was, but... I want someone to love me. I can be alone, but I don't want to, not anymore."
"You're not alone. I'm here."
His wet eyeballs waver back and forth in their sockets. He looks deep into me. "I love you, Tammy. I've always loved you. I need you so much."
An instant later, he turns away. He's dropped his guard, opened his heart...
"I love you too, Jamie, I do."
"You love me." It's not a question.
"You know I do."
"Why did you leave?"
I choke on my effort to answer him.
"You hated me," he says plainly.
"I never hated you."
"Then why?"
"Beca
use I was a coward," I sigh. "I ran away because I loved you and couldn't deal with it. I was afraid. I was confused. But I'm not anymore. I know who I am now. I know I'm sixteen years late, but I love you."
"Tammy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Hug me, please, tight, like you did earlier."
God, finally! My arms encircle him. His go around my shoulders. I squeeze him like a python. "More... more," he cries. It's like he wants me to crush the life out of him. The tighter I hold him, the more he loves it. "Yes... yes..." I feel his lips on my neck. The heat of his breath against my ear shatters what's left of my control. We make out for long moments, his tongue tentatively touching mine, until I'm forced to gasp, "Jamie, we have to stop now... if you don't want this to go any further tonight."
He pulls away. I can't believe he's being so hesitant. I'm so hard I'm about to pop. "Jamie..."
"I've never had sex."
I blink stupidly at him, trying to wrap my brain around what he's just said.
"Liar," I tease.
"I'm not lying."
"You're too gorgeous to be a virgin."
He turns away. "I hate that word."
I stroke his chin, feeling the first pokes of day old stubble. "Why?"
"I don't know..."
"There has to be a reason."
He shrugs. "I just haven't. I've tried, for years, to come up with a reason, and I can't. I've just never been interested in anyone but you. You're the only one I've ever kissed."
I'm the only asshole who's ever burned him.
"God... Jamie..."
"I know... I'm a freakshow."
I lean into him, and he shies from me.
"Are you afraid of me?" I ask softly.
"A little."
I love him... everything about him... He's so shy, and it's so sexy it's driving me fucking bananas.
twenty:
jamie
(christmas eve)
I want to trust him, because I want this to happen, but I'm so afraid. What if this is, after all, a cruel joke? "You won't hurt me?" I ask him as we make our way to his bedroom. I can't help it. I don't think I've ever been this afraid.
He's taken my shirts off. I feel him tracing the scars on my shoulder blades. My body tenses under his fingers. I don't want him to ask about them, the ugly scars on my back, the little round burns on my buttocks and thighs.
He does not. "It will probably hurt, Jamie. I'll be as careful as I can. But we don't have to do that... tonight. Let's just see what happens."
The sight of his bed, a big, broad king that nearly takes up his whole room, adds to my terror. He takes all of his clothes off except his underwear. I don't look. I always imagined this moment, believing I'd be ogling his goodies, oohing and ahhing, drooling over his body like a rabid wolf.
But this isn't a daydream. This is reality, and I'm forced to acknowledge the fact that inside his shorts is a penis that he hopes to penetrate me with. I pray I won't faint as he takes my jeans off. We're both in our tighty whities (actually, his are dark green) when he peels back the black and red checkerboard flannel spread and the rest of the covers. "Come on. It's okay."
Once the blankets are over me, my fear is thousand fold as he pats the sheets beside him. "Come closer." I obey, and he gathers me against him. "Want a bear hug?"
"Yes," I plead, and he crushes me close, his skin branding me, the hair on his chest tickling me. His strong, sexy smell fills my nose. My heart slams wildly against his. I can feel his woody and I know he can feel mine. It shrank when I got scared, but when Tammy hugs me like this, my entire body responds by reaching for him...
"Let's take off our underwear," he whispers. The ice begins to refreeze but I force my frostbitten fingers to work, make myself pull my whities off and kick them away. He pulls me up against him, and our nakedness touches everywhere. The alien hotness makes me tingle and shudder with fear and pleasure. I had no idea that his naked body against mine would feel so terrifyingly good. The double shock of his hands on my ass and his tongue in my mouth makes me lurch and cry. I don't know where to put my own hands, so I just leave them around his neck.
Tammy's not shy at all. His hands are everywhere, scorching me, yet I'm shivering like a baby bird in a blizzard. His thumb finds the soft pink of my nipple and brushes it. Instantly it hardens.
I brace myself for the question, "What's this?" when he finds the mark left behind by the feeding tube that saved me.
But he doesn't ask. He strokes my body until he reaches my belly, where he slowly rubs in a hard, circular caress that has me crying softly against his mouth. My insides begin to burn and clench. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, as his hand closes around my erection and the fingers of his other hand probe up between my buttocks. I flinch. "It's okay," he soothes. "Open your legs. Open..."
Open for Daddy.
He gently slips two fingers into me. I'm too lost in what he's doing to think straight. Then he finds a place inside of me so sensitive that I jerk and let out a keening yelp. His other hand yanks on me softly as I mindlessly thrust against him, my fingers digging into the bunched muscles of his shoulders.
"There you go, Jamie." I hear strange music, as I move my hips faster and faster. His fingers flicker and tickle that ultrasensitive spot deep inside my body, a match striking, white heat flaring, alive, again and again. Our eyes are opened, our kisses are closed-mouthed, noisy, hard, suck and release... suck and release. It's sexier than any French kiss in history, and more formidable, because he's seeing as deeply into me as his fingers are twisting, and the look in his eyes is scary, sexy. He knows he has me, and I can't stop him from taking me, from toying with me, from possessing me.
Nor do I want to. Our kisses go on and on, until his mouth, and the skin around it, begins to blush lustily.
The matches keep striking and I'm igniting, catching fire. I begin to make those preposterous whimpering sounds again. My ears start to ring. My heart beats so fast and so hard it's about to burst out of my chest.
You're nasty, Jamie.
I push her away. How can this be wrong? Faster and faster I dance to the symphony roaring in my ears, until suddenly I'm enveloped in brilliant, blissful heat, an incredible warmth surrounding me, radiating from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The heat begins to leave me in hard spasms of indescribable delight. "What's happening to me?" I cry out loudly, my voice muffled by the deafening music.
"Let it out, Jamie. Let your love go..."
I'm dying. I'm leaving my body and yet here I am. I feel every single thing my body is doing. It's so completely overwhelming that love flows from my eyes as well. I sob helplessly as Tammy strokes and fists the last spurts of warm fluid out of me.
My heart thuds softly, calmly now. The world is still spinning. It's a while before I can speak. "What... what happened to me?"
Tammy kisses me softly on the forehead. "You creamed, Jamie. You came..."
"I came?"
He studies me carefully. "Have you had wet dreams?
I think back to my teenage dreams of him. A few times I woke up sticky and moist, but I can't remember ever having that warmth spreading through my body, or those intense throbs and spasms. I can still feel little aftershocks rippling through me. Tammy's eyes delve into mine, and inside me blossoms a warm desire—to do to him as he's done to me. "I want to touch you, Tammy."
He sucks in his breath. "You don't have to."
My body tingles. "I want to."
He takes my timid hand and puts it on him, shows me how to touch him. His smile, tender, wicked, sends another little earthquake rumbling through me.
It's big, thick, solid...
Like Daddy's.
...twitching, the tip like a shining, dark, ripe plum. It throbs warmly against my fingers as I watch him make faces. His hips begin to thrust toward me, and instinctively I begin to increase my speed. His body is singing the same incredible song mine just sang, and watching him lost in pleasure makes me begin to sing all over again. My h
ips undulate, my tummy clenches, melts. His hand folds around me, and we watch each other as the gorgeous music intensifies, reaches a shattering plateau.
I close my eyes against unwelcome visions... I'm not letting them ruin this!
"Come on, Tammy," I murmur to him.
He lets out a deep groan. Another unwanted image looms and I shove it aside in anger. This is love! This is my miracle and nobody is taking it away from me! Tammy's semen splashes against my hand and belly.
It's lingering, trying to ruin this beautiful moment. I thrust against him.
"You're hard again," he rasps.
"Yeah," I whisper.
"I am too. Already," he laughs softly. "Rub against me. It's okay... rub against me."
We rub together, stiff and sticky. It feels so good. The orchestra begins to play again, rising, swelling...
Then he cries, "Jamie, let me inside of you, please? Please let me inside."
I freeze.
"Please? Let me..."
"It's going to hurt."
"Yes, and it might bleed. I'll be very, very careful, I promise."
"It'll get on your sheets!"
"Don't worry about that," he pants. "Please, Jamie?"
This is the most monumental, most important, most terrifying night of my life. I'm so in love, so ready for him to take everything he wants from me. Even if he wants to break me open, take my heart, leave me cold and deserted, and crying endlessly for him, even if he is the most heartless, cold-blooded snake alive, I love him, I want him.
I want this.
I nod. Tammy reaches under my thighs and lifts until my legs are wrapped around his neck and shoulders. I don't take note of much, I'm too frightened. I think I see the letters "KY", then his fingers are smearing something cold and gooey into me. He presses inside slowly, carefully, and I'm unable to keep my body from clamping down in an effort to protect itself.
And that makes it hurt worse.
I want the pain. I want it to be just like it is with everyone else. Tammy's lips are on mine, his tongue in my mouth like a needle injecting me with joy.
He's inside of me. He's making love to me. He's hurting me. He's making me cry...
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