Skin: He wanted full contact

by Johanna Hawke

  Roni tugged me closer and took my lips in hers, and I responded by gently caressing her breasts. They were even sexier, plumper, more heavenly than I remembered. Just as I had done the first time we’d been here, I slipped my fingers inside Roni and explored her. I listened to her moans and responded with a dance of my fingers. Watching was the best part. I watched her as she tried to keep her sounds to herself, to find an outlet for the arousal I was causing her. It was such a turn on.

  I felt my way around Roni with one hand and steadied myself over her body with the other. I kissed her hard and passionately as she went along with my movements. I was hard. I slipped my finger out from between Roni’s legs and replaced it with my stiff cock. Roni whimpered as I thrust myself in, harder and harder. Beads of sweat made their way down my face, but all I could focus on was Roni.

  That fiery look in her eyes got me revved up all over again each time I looked into them. She looked please, determined, and that only made me want to keep going harder and harder. I moved my stiffness around inside her, stopping to go deeper at the places that seemed to please Roni most. My breathing became labored as I rocked back and forth.

  Roni erupted in a scream as I wet her pussy. I laid on top of her, gasping for air, as our naked bodies moved as one. Man, had I missed that. We just had this sort of rhythm in bed that made me want to strip naked and go down on Roni every time I saw her. This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

  “I love you,” I said, as I wiped up my sticky mess with a hand towel.

  “I love you, too,” Roni said. “Forever and for always.”

  The soft bedsheets enveloped me as I returned to them and took Roni in my arms. Laying there, her head leaning on my shoulder, I had everything I ever wanted.

  Chapter 32

  Roni

  “Please be nice to him, Daddy,” I said, as I placed a piece of our nice china on the dining room table. It was the kind of place setting we only saved for special occasions, and I considered this to be a special occasion of sorts.”

  “Now, Roni, when have I ever been anything but nice to Jesse?” Dad asked.

  The smile on his face told me that he was fully aware of his sarcasm, that this wasn’t some sort of forgetfulness that came along with one of his medications. “I’m serious. He’s a completely different person,” I said.

  “I should hope so. I don’t want you with that same bonehead you dated back in high school.” With Jesse due in less than a half hour, I knew that now wasn’t the time to nitpick and try to understand why exactly Dad hadn’t ever liked Jesse. Besides the whole breaking up with me and disappearing scenario, Jesse had always treated me well enough. I supposed it had to do with how he’d treated everyone else, and the rest of the world. Sure, he’d been a little rough around the edges in high school, but, as I placed our drinking glasses on the table, I decided that I was confident Jesse had blossomed enough to impress even my overprotective dad.

  “Come on, Dad.”

  “I know, Veronica.” My full name. That’s how I knew my father meant business. As I stirred the soup I’d spent all day cooking, I thought about my mom. She would’ve loved having Jesse back around. She’d been disappointed when Jesse had gone to jail, sure, but I knew she would’ve been much quicker to celebrate us being back together than my dad had been.

  It felt like only a minute had passed when there was a knock on the door. Before I had a chance to get it, I heard my father greeting Jesse. “Come on in,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.” Jesse’s voice sounded normal, not at all nervous. I wasn’t sure if he was as confident and calm as he sounded, or if he was simply a better actor than I’d known. “This is for you.”

  In between my scrapes of the green beans into the serving dish, I heard the crinkling of wrapping paper. “How could you possibly remember how much I love these? I don’t think Roni even remembers these.”

  The excitement in my father’s voice was enough to make me abandon my post and join them in the foyer. I quickly kissed Jesse on the cheek, then turned my attention to my dad. “What’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the box in his hand.

  “My favorite chocolates. Strawberry and raspberry filling, all in each piece.” He turned to face Jesse. “Where on earth did you find these? I haven’t been able to track them down since a business meeting took me to Charlottesville a few years back.”

  Jesse grinned. “There’s your answer, sir,” he said. “Mama’s Southern Homemade Chocolates, fresh from Charlottesville.”

  From the look in my dad’s eyes, I was fairly certain he was either going to wrap Jesse in a giant hug or burst into tears. His smile wider than I’d seen it in weeks, he thanked Jesse. “This is just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Who’s ready for dinner?” I said, leading the way into the dining room. I knew this night could not have started off any better if I planned it myself, and I just hoped it would keep up. Both of my dining companions were stubborn and opinionated, likely a deadly combination.

  The last time we’d all sat at this table had to have been sometime in the middle of senior year. I guessed that it was Christmas Eve dinner, when Jesse had joined us for our annual family festivities. The table felt lonely set for three. Having eaten all of our meals in the kitchen since I’d arrived back in Linfield, it occurred to me that this was my first time at the dining room table without Mom. The only thing I could tell myself was that everything happens for a reason, and Mom was undoubtedly there with us in spirit.

  Jesse caught me off-guard by asking if he could propose a toast before I served dinner. Despite having nothing but glasses of water in front of us, Dad and I obliged. “I feel blessed to have such wonderful dining companions tonight,” Jesse said. “To Jerry Vance, may healing take over your body and chocolate fill your soul.” Dad smiled then chuckled at Jesse. “Thank you for raising the most amazing woman I have ever known. To Roni, thank you for gathering us here tonight and cooking us a meal that is bound to be delicious. Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” Dad and I echoed in unison. We all clinked our glasses together, and it felt as if we’d been doing this for years. Everything felt natural. My father and Jesse made small talk as I ladled tomato orzo soup into bowls and, for once, I didn’t have to worry about them biting each other’s heads off. Maybe we had turned over a new leaf, after all.

  “Roni, dear, this soup is delicious,” Dad said after eating a spoonful.

  I smiled politely. “Thanks. It’s Mom’s recipe.”

  “Your mom was a hell of a cook,” Jesse said.

  Dad nodded. “That she was.” Jesse’s one comment launched my father into a twenty-minute monologue about my mother’s cooking. I’d never known until tonight that she’d burned the first meal she’d ever cooked for my father when they were dating. “She was so nervous that she was going to undercook the chicken and give me food poisoning that she burnt it. Completely wrecked it. We ended up going out for pizza.”

  Jesse and I both had to stop eating our soups and Caesar salads because we were laughing so hard. It wasn’t just the story itself that was funny, but the way my father was telling it was like he was the star of a comedy show. Truth be told, I hadn’t seen him interact much with others, save for a few of his friends stopping by, since I’d been back. It was refreshing to see him coming back out of his shell. I could tell he was starting to feel like a human again, instead of a patient being rushed back and forth to doctors’ appointments.

  “How about you guys?” Dad asked. “How was the first meal Roni cooked for you, Jesse?” He leaned in, guy to guy. “Go ahead. You can be honest.”

  I looked over to Jesse. “Actually, I think this is the first time I’ve ever eating Roni’s cooking,” he said.

  “Is that so?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Unless you count the brownies she used to bake and bring to school all the time.”

  “Don’t be silly!” Dad flipped his head to face me and stared at me as if I was supposed to know exactly what he was thinking. “Go on
, sweetheart. Show him what you’re made of.”

  With that, I cleared the soup bowls and brought the serving bowls and casserole dishes out to the table one by one. When I was finally done, proud of myself for not burning my fingers on the hot dishes, I stepped back and admired my handy work. I was fairly certain I knew both my dad and Jesse well enough to know their food likes and dislikes, but I had gone a bit overboard to make sure I covered all my bases.

  “Holy moly!” Dad said.

  “You didn’t tell me we were having the whole street over for dinner tonight!” Jesse chimed in. Dad slapped his knee and cackled as if Jesse had just told the funniest joke in the world. Though I wasn’t too keen on being the butt of the joke, I was glad that they were bonding over something, even if it was at my expense.

  “Very funny.” I said. “So, you guys hungry or what?” I gave them the rundown, starting with the corned beef brisket. Dad reached for the corn and bean salad first, while Jesse opted for the garlic rosemary chicken, a new recipe I was trying out. I’d been dying to try the twice-baked potatoes, so they made their way onto my plate as I looked around and made sure everyone was satisfied.

  Jesse put down his knife and fork and looked right at me until I felt his gaze. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Roni,” he said jokingly. “Everything is delicious! The corned beef is out of this world!”

  “I’m a fan of the potatoes, myself,” Dad said. Mission accomplished. A small part of me wondered if they were just complimenting me as part of their unspoken agreement to be on their best behavior, but I went along with it. “So, Jesse, tell me about this tattoo business of yours.”

  Uh oh. I searched for any trace of sarcasm or deprecation in my dad’s voice, but I found none. Shocked, I watched on as he intently listened to Jesse talk about his passion for tattooing and his tattoo shop. Jesse didn’t hold back, either, mentioning that he discovered art while in prison and sharing photos of some of his favorite pieces he’d ever worked up. Dad interjected every so often with a question or comment, but, for the most part, he just listened. It was like two old friends catching up after years apart, an incredible thing to witness.

  “Jesse, I must say, I may have been wrong about you,” Dad said, wiping the corners of his lips with his napkin. “You were a nitwit back in high school, but you seem to have really found a way for yourself.”

  I was worried Jesse would take that the wrong way, but he surprised me and said, “Thank you, Mr. Vance. That means a lot coming from you. I’ve been working really hard on bettering myself.”

  “You make my daughter happy.” Dad said it matter-of-factly, but also with a soft emotion that completely changed the tone of the conversation. “I mean it. I can’t remember the last time Roni smiled so much!”

  Jesse’s eyes lit up. “And I intend to keep her smiling, sir.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Returning to his normal dinner conversation voice, Dad turned his focus over to me. “Roni, you never told me how that diorama idea of yours worked out with your classes.”

  “It was a disaster,” I said bluntly. I chuckled to let Dad and Jesse know I wasn’t too heartbroken about it. A week earlier, when my students had completely made a mess of my classroom, ignored instructions, and failed to even put in the effort to make a diorama out of items throughout the school, I had been near tears. Now, I could laugh about it. “I guess giving middle schoolers too much freedom can be a bad thing.”

  Jesse winked at me. “Amen to that.”

  Dad asked if there was any dessert, to which Jesse made a snarky but humorous remark about there always being dessert when I had a say in things. It was true. Normally when I cooked for Dad and me, I kept it simple with a protein and a side dish or two. With Jesse, I wanted to pull out all the stops. I gave us a few minutes to digest and relax before bringing out the one dessert that I was certain all three of us loved: apple pie.

  “Vanilla ice cream?” Dad and Jesse asked at almost the exact same time. As I went back into the kitchen to grab the carton of ice cream from the freezer, a tad embarrassed at my lack of preparedness, I could hear the two guys laughing and boasting about their shared love of ice cream.

  This night was full of unexpected surprises, but I didn’t think that was a bad thing. The two most important guys in my life seemed to be getting along, and, assuming it wasn’t some insane plan they’d hatched ahead of time to pretend to like one another, I was thrilled. After all, we’d all come a long way in five years. I’d never imagined a day when we could have dinner together without wondering who would leave with a broken bone or bruised ego. It was finally happening for us.

  Chapter 33

  Jesse

  It was hard seeing Roni’s father like this. Even though we’d had our difference, he’d never been anything but a loving, doting father. His hand shook frantically as he tried to shake mine, but I knew there was no use in telling him not to worry about it. He was stubborn, a trait that he’d passed on to Roni, and one that I admired greatly.

  When Roni had told me how rapidly her father’s health had declined over the past several weeks, I wasn’t sure I believed it. I figured that, surely, she was just a worried daughter over exaggerating the facts. Now, sitting across the man who looked twenty years older than he was, I knew Roni had been telling the truth.

  “Mr. Vance,” I said. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  “What is it?” he asked, not a hint of sarcasm or disdain in his voice for one of the first times ever. Our cordial dinner had helped, after all.

  With sweaty palms, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the blue velvet box with the diamond ring I’d been holding onto for two days before finally building up the courage to talk to Jerry. “I’d like your permission to ask Roni to marry me.”

  I opened the box to reveal the pear-shaped diamond that Roni had stopped to stare at each time we passed the jeweler downtown. I knew that she hadn’t been hinting, but it’d helped to know what she wanted. I waited with bated breath, sure that this man who’d spent so many years hating me would give me a hassle.

  “Why not?” Jerry let out a weak cackle.

  “What?”

  “You love her, she loves you, so why not get married?”

  I shrugged, having not expected that reaction in the slightest. “Look, sir. I know I treated your daughter poorly in the past, but I’m a different person now. You have my word. She makes me so happy, and I like to think that I make her happy, too.”

  I wasn’t sure whether he had just gone plain wacky or he was enjoying making me squirm, but Jerry surprised me yet again by asking to see the ring. I held the box closer to his eyes, hoping it would meet his approval.

  “I’m no jeweler,” he said. “But it looks like a good one. When are you planning on asking her?”

  Nothing I had read about in my copious Google searches had prepared me for this. I was prepared to answer what my intentions were with his daughter, how I planned to support us, and why I loved her. When, however, was not among the questions I had been told to expect.

  “I…umm…” I started, not completely sure where I was going. The truth was, I didn’t know for certain. I just knew that I wanted—no, needed—his permission before it was too late to ask.

  “How about later today?” Jerry said.

  “Today?” I repeated.

  Jerry motioned to me to come closer to him, so I scooted my chair around the wooden table so that I was just inches from him. “Parker, we both know I’m not going to live forever. I think it’d be nice if I was around to see my little girl get engaged. She’s been going on and on about her wedding day since she could talk.”

  “Today,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’d be happy to, sir.”

  “Just do me one favor,” Jerry said.

  I leaned in. “Anything.”

  “Take good care of my little girl.” I promised him over and over again that I would be the best fiancé and husband to Roni that I could be. I told him how I
loved her more than anything in the world and only wanted what would make her happy. Instead of questioning me further, he told me to go home and put on a nicer outfit for the proposal.

  Putting on a button-down shirt was nearly impossible with sweating, shaking hands, but I did my best. I paired my favorite button-down, one that Roni hadn’t yet seen me in, with my nicest pair of khakis and a pair of dress shoes I had on hand for job interviews. I looked in my bathroom mirror, ran my fingers through my hair, and prayed that I was good enough for Roni.

  She loves you, I told myself. She’ll say yes. We’ve always been meant to be. Even though I knew how deeply Roni cared about me, I figured the pit in my stomach wouldn’t go away until she said yes. I looked at my watch. With the end of the school day approaching, it was almost show time.

  If someone had told me when I woke up this morning that I would be proposing to the woman of my dreams today, I would’ve said they were crazy. But I supposed people did crazy things when they were in love—like proposing when their future father-in-law requested them to.

  I stopped at the flower shop and picked up a bouquet of two dozen roses, then parked my car around back of Roni’s parents’ house so she wouldn’t know I was there. Jerry told me he would signal to me when Roni got home, then I would propose to her on the front lawn, right where I’d asked her out for the very first time. For the first time in days, Roni’s dad seemed to be excited about something. Instead of slouching in the chair he’d turned into a makeshift bed, he was slowly, unsteadily moving back and forth across the front porch, talking to me through the open screen window.

  It almost seemed as though giving Jerry a purpose had not only lifted his spirits but also improved his physical energy. I noticed through the window, in between deep, shallow breaths, that his hands weren’t shaking as much. “She’s coming!” he shouted through the window.