by Tessa Teevan
“Sweetpea, is that any way to talk to your mama after you haven’t seen her in two months?” she croons, making my skin crawl. She crosses the room and pulls me into a big hug, but I just stand there, arms at my side. Leaning back, she looks at me and frowns. “Cheyenne, sweetie, it looks like you’ve been spending too much time in the sun. You need to be careful,” she says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
No, “I missed you Cheyenne. It’s good to see you, Cheyenne.” It’s negative. And for the first time this summer, I feel inadequate. I hate that she can waltz in and do this to me.
Ignoring her comment, I pull out of her arms and go to sit on my bed. “My skin’s fine, Mama. What are you doin’ here? Where the hell have you been?”
Her eyes widen with excitement and she flutters her left hand out in front of me. I see a big, gaudy, ridiculous-sized diamond on her finger. “I’m getting married! I just came home to get my birth certificate so we could go and get it done. Thomas and I don’t want to make it a big deal. Neither of us has much family, so we’re just going to make it something small, intimate, just the two of us.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. She doesn’t have much family. Her own daughter isn’t worthy of being at her own wedding. Awesome.
“Great. Fantastic. So freakin’ happy for you,” I say, standing up, ready to walk out of the room.
“What is your problem, Cheyenne? Thomas is a wonderful man. He’ll provide for me, for us. He’ll be your stepdaddy. You’ll love him,” she says, her words causing my blood to boil.
“No, Mother,” I say for the first time, not calling her Mama. I’m done. She doesn’t deserve to be called that, and even Mother is a stretch. “I won’t love him. He will not be my stepfather. The only daddy I’ve ever had died ten years ago serving this country. And I’m glad he’s not here to see you like this. He’d be as ashamed as I am,” I spit out, causing her to reel backwards.
Pushing past her, I rush into her room and find her jewelry box. I’ve spent more than enough time playing with her jewelry, and it almost killed me when she took off her rings to start dating again. For years I’ve been sneaking into her room and taking out Daddy’s ring to inspect. I’m pissed as hell that she even thinks that anyone could ever be my stepdad and that I’d ever love him, especially after this stupid whirlwind romance they’ve apparently been on. Knowing her, he might be my stepfather for two whole months before he decides she’s too much for him.
Finally locating the rings, I take all three of them—her engagement and wedding rings and his wedding band. That woman doesn’t deserve any of them. Stuffing them into my pocket, I turn to leave when I see her leaning against the doorjamb.
“What are you doing, Cheyenne?” she asks quietly, almost timid.
“I’m taking what’s left of Daddy. Obviously you don’t give a shit, so it’s mine now,” I tell her, knowing that my words probably hurt, but right now, I really don’t care.
I watch as her face drains, and part of me is telling me not to do it. That maybe, just maybe, some part deep down inside of her still loves him, but the angry, irrational Cheyenne wins out.
“Cheyenne, please, calm down. This could be a fresh new start for us,” she says softly, almost hopeful.
I shake my head, knowing that it’s way too far gone for any fresh start. “No, Mama, there’s not going to be any fresh start for us. You’re starting your new life, and in a couple of weeks, I’ll be starting mine.” She grimaces at my words, and for once, I wish she’d fight for me, for a relationship, but she’s always found it easier to just let go. “I sincerely hope you’re happy.”
Without another word, I quickly move past her, grab my bag, and head out into the dark Georgia night, knowing exactly where I need to go.
IT’S A LITTLE AFTER dark when I pull into Cheyenne’s driveway. The weather was shit today, and I didn’t get a chance to see her at the lake. Missing her, I flew out of the house as soon as Wyatt and I ate dinner, something that he’s insisted we do every night, and I have to admit that I’ve really enjoying getting to know my mother’s brother.
The house is dark, and when I crawl through Cheyenne’s window, I try my hardest not to get mud on her wooden floors. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I see she’s not in her bed. Her room’s a mess, something that is quite unlike her. Searching the house, I realize she’s not here. I leave through the front door and skip down the steps, going to my truck, knowing exactly where she must be.
It doesn’t take long for me to get to the lake, and my eyes scan the shore until I see her sitting on the edge of the dock, legs dangling over. Pulling my boots and socks off, I move to join her. She doesn’t look up at me as I sit down next to her, and I can immediately tell she’s been crying. Without saying a word, I wrap my arm around her and pull her into me. She turns, her head resting on my chest as her hand comes up to grip my t-shirt. The waterworks explode and she’s soon sobbing against me, dampening my shirt. My hand strokes her hair as she cries it out.
“Shh, pretty girl. Everything’s gonna be okay,” I tell her, even though I have no idea why my girl’s crying in my arms, but it doesn’t matter. If my words can comfort her, then that’s enough for me.
“It hasn’t been okay for a really long time, Sawyer,” she whispers, finally calming down just a little bit. She pulls back away from me, sniffing, wiping her eyes. She gives me a small smile, and my heart flip-flops just a little bit.
Cheyenne’s beautiful, even with a runny nose, red-rimmed eyes, and messed-up hair. The way she’s smiling through her tears makes me want to lean in, kiss her, and finally tell her how I really feel about her. I know we started this whole thing as a fling, a friendship, but it’s turned into so much more.
When I came to Shiloh Grove, I never imagined I’d find myself not wanting to leave, nor did I ever envision meeting someone who makes me feel more than I ever have. Someone who makes me want to work my ass off the next two years in school and possibly move to California. Yeah, I know it’s crazy. It’s been a whirlwind summer, and we haven’t even slept together, but I’d uproot my life and move to Berkeley if I could just so I could be near her.
She sighs, and I’m pulled out of my thoughts. “I know, babe. And I hate that for you, but you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Just think of all that sunshine you’re going to have when you head to California,” I tell her, even though the thought of it kills me. “You wanna talk about it?”
Shaking her head, she stands up. “No, I really don’t. Let’s just say that Mama popped in with an announcement, and we had an argument. I don’t want to talk about it. Hell, I don’t even want to think about it right now.”
I watch as she walks off the dock and waits near the shore. She gestures for me to join her. As I walk towards her, she begins to remove her clothes, first her t-shirt, and then her jeans, which she slowly slides down, causing my mouth to water. When I reach her, she pulls me in for a kiss, her tongue quickly tangling with mine, and I relish in the taste of her strawberry lip balm.
“Let’s go for a swim, city boy,” she says, grinning up at me.
No longer able to say no to this woman, I quickly remove my t-shirt and then my shorts. She cocks an eyebrow up at me and brings her hands up to the clasp on the front of her bra. She’s fingering it, giving me a seductive look.
“This is a summer of firsts, right? Well, one thing I’ve never done is go skinny dippin’, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do it with,” she says, unclasping her bra and slowly moving it away from her body to expose two beautiful breasts, her pink nipples hardening as a slight breeze passes through the air. I inhale sharply at the sight of them and have to my stop myself from crossing to her and taking one of them into my mouth. “Your turn,” she tells me, and I watch as her breasts rise and swell with each breath she takes.
I’m transfixed, and it’s not until she clears her throat that I even registered what she said. Hooking my thumbs in the waistline of my boxer briefs, I take a page ou
t of her book and slowly move them down, watching as her eyes take in every single inch of my now rock-hard cock. Bending down, I remove them completely. As I stand back up, stark naked in front of her, I love the way her eyes rake over my body and I know she’s enjoying the evidence of all the farm work I’ve done this summer. I’m reminded of the first day we met, how I somehow got up the courage to walk up to this girl naked. I can’t believe how far we’ve come in such a short time. I’m not sure how I’ve become an exhibitionist, but with Cheyenne, I find myself doing things I normally never would have done.
“Lookin’ hot, city boy. Farm life’s been good to you,” she says, grinning at me, and once again, I can’t take my eyes off her breasts.
Moving towards her, I place my hands on her hips, and I hear her breath catch as I pull her into me. “Why is it that I’m naked and you still have panties on?” I ask huskily, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
She turns her head and looks into my eyes, and I see that all the tears have finally gone away and her eyes are no longer red. Instead, they’re filled with desire, and I realize that I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer on her whole deflowering request. Who in the hell ever decided that deflowering was even a good term? That sounds fuckin’ weird, and I shake the thought out of my mind, even though the thought of sinking into her sounds pretty damn amazing right now.
I watch as she steps away from me and grabs her panties, slowly sliding them down until she can kick them off. Apparently we both like torture, because it’s killing me to watch the material run down her legs at a snail’s pace. Finally, she’s standing before me naked, and I silently thank God that there’s a full moon so I can see her, all of her, every single inch. Something about her tans lines are sexy as hell, the contrast of bronze, sun-kissed skin and pale, creamy white with a hint of pink around her nipples. As my eyes slide down her body, I can see that she’s completely bare between her legs, and I look up to meet her eyes, knowing I have a crazy-ass grin on my face.
She shrugs her shoulders, looking away from me, and a part of me loves this shy, innocent side of her. “I may have gone into the city and gotten one of those waxes that all those magazines rave about,” she admits, finally looking back at me. “And you better take advantage of it, too, because that shit hurt like hell and you better believe I’m never lettin’ a crazy woman near my Southern belle with wax ever again.”
Busting out in laugher, I lose it when I hear her name for the land down under, and she throws me a mock glare, which causes me to laugh even harder. I walk towards and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder. She playfully scratches my back, and my dick aches as I imagine her doing the same thing after I sink myself into her, fucking her senseless.
But I can’t do that with Cheyenne. I’ve been with a couple of girls, but none of them were virgins. The thought of being that guy, the first one, is daunting. All you hear are horror stories. When I lost my virginity, it was with an older girl who knew what the hell she was doing. I got off, and at the time, that’s all that mattered. But the thought of being the first for Cheyenne? Well, to be honest, it scares the fuck out of me. And even though I’ve been avoiding it, I know I’m not going to be able to let her leave for California without finally sealing the deal. As much as it freaks me out, it scares me even more not to be the one to do it for her. I want it to be good, and if she goes off and just finds some college guy to get it over and done with, I’d hate myself. I’d rather her have the memory of it with me, someone who cares about her and how she feels.
Walking into the water, I’m instantly chilled, seeing as how the rain cooled the lake down. When I get waist deep, I let her slide down my body, and she wraps her legs around my waist while her arms link around my neck. I don’t miss the way my dick’s pressed up against her or the way she tries to rock her hips into me. Gripping her waist, I still her movements, causing her to whimper.
“Sawyer, I’m ready. I don’t want to wait any longer,” she says, peppering kisses up and down my neck as she tries to move her hips again. I don’t let her, and I feel her nails dig into the skin on my back. “Please don’t make me wait. I want it to be you, and I want to be able to do it more than once before I have to leave. I know one time will never be enough for me.”
Her admission has my dick swelling, and I feel her legs loosen around my waist as her hand moves down between my legs, where she grabs ahold of my cock. She begins to slide me up and down her slit and my heart starts racing at the contact. My brain is screaming, Back the fuck up! But my dick is looking for entry.
Reaching down, I grab her hand and twist it around her back. “Baby, we’re not doing this here. Your first time is not going to be in a fuckin’ lake. Maybe it’s something we can revisit in the future, but if you’re serious, if you really want this, I’m not taking you here.”
Her legs tighten around my waist, and I groan when I feel her heat against me. “But, Sawyer, we’re in the water. Maybe it’ll be easier. More lubrication. Come on. Please don’t make me wait. You’ve made me wait for weeks and it’s been killing me,” she admits, leaning up to press a hot kiss against my lips.
Chuckling, I shake my head and start walking out of the water. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” I tell her, and I notice the way she shivers when the cool air hits her skin after being in the water. Setting her down, I grab my shorts, finding the condom in my wallet. Okay, sure, that looks kind of skeezy, but I knew I’d eventually give in to her so I started carrying one around just in case.
Quickly swooping up our clothes, I grab her hand and lead her around to the other side of the lake where Wyatt’s boathouse is. I’m lucky enough that he gave me the key, and I’m practically running, dragging her along, desperate to finally make love to her for the first time.
When we enter the boathouse, I lead her towards the shower, turning on the hot water so we can both jump in and rinse off. We can barely keep our hands off each other, and the sight of Cheyenne wet, naked, and grinning at me does nothing to calm my raging libido. Shutting the water off, I lead her back towards the bedroom, taking my time to dry us both off with a towel.
We stand in the middle of the room, and I wrap her up in a giant hug. Her breasts press against my chest, and I realize now that I’m not going to last long. Suddenly, I’m mentally freaking out, wondering if I can do this. I mean, I want to. Don’t get me wrong. But this is monumental for a girl, right? She’ll remember this experience for the rest of her life, and I want to measure up. Taking a deep breath, I calm my nerves and lead her towards the bed.
She lies down on the mattress and I cover her body with mine. Skin-on-skin contact feels so damn good, and if she were anyone else, I’d be sliding into her right now. Instead, I lean a little off to the side, where I rest on my elbow. As I bring my hand up to stroke her face, my other ones goes in between her legs, where I’m silently thankful that she’s wet with anticipation. My fingers make work of stroking her over and over again, doing everything I can to get her ready for me.
Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on her lips. “Are you sure about this, pretty girl?”
“City boy, I haven’t been sure of much in my life. But this? Yeah, I’m more than sure that this is what I want, and I only want it with you,” she breathes, and it takes everything in me not to impale her right here, right now.
Reaching across her to the nightstand where I placed the condom, I grab it but she takes it out of my hands. “Summer of firsts, right?” she says playfully, grinning up at me. She tears the wrapper and pulls the rubber material out. I almost laugh out loud when I see her studying the back of the wrapper where the directions are.
I can’t help but smile when I feel her fingers shaking as she places the condom on the tip of my cock and slowly rolls it down. It’s sexy and innocent at the same time, and once again, I begin to feel apprehensive about doing this. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know what a big moment this is.
Reaching up, Cheyenne loops an arm
around my neck and pulls me down to her. She gives me a soft barrage of kisses in quick succession. “Sawyer, I want this. I want you. I want it to be you. Stop worryin’ about me.”
I respond to her wishes by lining myself up against her, and I watch as her eyes squeeze shut as I feel her body tense. I whisper a few words of encouragement, and I’m rewarded to the sight of her pretty blue eyes again. I run my dick over her slit several times, allowing it to be lubricated in her wetness. Finally, I position myself at her entrance, and the importance of the situation hits me. She trusts me enough to let me do this. Me, of all people. Even with all of her trust issues, she wants this with me, and an overwhelming feeling rushes into my heart. I care enough about her to be nervous as hell, hoping it’s perfect for her. I allow just the tip to enter, and I hear her whimper. Leaning down, I press my lips against hers, softly and slowly.
“I don’t know how or when it happened, and I don’t care. I fell in love with you this summer, Cheyenne, ” I admit as I slowly slide all the way inside her warmth, my heart filling with love at the same time I’m filling her.
July 2008
THE CONFIDENCE I WAS feeling when I had my legs wrapped around Sawyer in the water has dissipated, and I can feel the way my fingers are trembling as I slide the condom over his erection. Gathering up my courage, I loop my arms around his neck and somehow find the words to tell him that I want him. That I’m ready, even though I’m feeling a bundle of nervous butterflies floating around in my stomach. Hell, I could probably actually compare them to the fluttering wings of a swallow with how big my nerves are right now.
I’m holding my breath as he lines up against my entrance, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight as my body goes rigid, anticipating the pain I’ve always heard about. I can feel Sawyer’s breath on my ear as he leans down, his voice a soft whisper. “Pretty girl, open your eyes,” he requests, and the sound of comfort in his voice is enough for me to comply. He’s staring down at me with loving eyes, and something about it makes me want to confess my feelings for him, but instead, I keep them bottled up inside, not having been able to say those three words to anyone in a very long time.