Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  He rubs his thumb around the tip and I lick my lips, wanting to taste him, but knowing I can’t move. I stand against the glass, keeping even my hands against it so I’m not tempted to touch myself.

  “You fucking love watching this, don’t you?”

  “Mhmm,” I whimper.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groans, “I’m almost there, baby.”

  My pussy clenches, watching his hand tighten around his cock.

  “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

  I watch in awe as cum spurts out of him, landing on the tile floor and getting on his hand. His eyes close of their own accord, head dropped back in ecstasy. The tendons in his neck strain and the sounds he makes as he orgasms send shots of electricity through my body, because it’s so fucking hot.

  It takes him a moment to come down from his orgasm, and when he does, he looks at me with a spark of danger in his eyes.

  I squeal when suddenly he’s right in front of me.

  “Turn around, baby.”

  “Wha—”

  “Turn. Around.” He punctuates the words with a spin of his fingers.

  I blink at him for a second before I do as he says.

  “Hands on the glass.”

  I obey his command, keeping my head to the side.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” I see his reflection in the glass, looking me over. I still can’t believe this is happening. It feels like a dream I’m going to wake up from and be disappointed when I realize it’s not real.

  But it is.

  I guess with an attraction like ours it was inevitable that we give in. You can only fight gravity for so long, and the two of us have been falling together from the start.

  He places his hands low on my hips, nearly on my butt, and brings them upward, around my front, stopping to cup my breasts. The whole front of his body presses to my back, and the feel of our skin, so soft and slick, is foreign but welcome. He dips his head into the curve of my neck and I let it fall back against his massive shoulder.

  “I love you,” he whispers into the skin, giving a slight bite to where my neck meets my shoulder. His left hand tightens around my breast as his other descends.

  I whimper as his fingers get lower, brushing teasingly against my bare pussy. “Touch me.”

  “Not yet.”

  I cry out again when his fingers are right there but he still won’t touch me.

  “Lachlan,” I beg.

  “Shh.” His vocal cords hum against my body.

  He brings his hand back up, swirling his fingers around my belly button.

  “Hands on the glass,” he commands.

  I didn’t realized they’d fallen. In a flash I raise my hands back, placing them flat against the fogged glass. He nips my earlobe and I shiver. His hand dips lower again, barely brushing my clit. My hands threaten to close into fists, my fingers flexing, but somehow I keep them on the glass.

  “Oh my God,” I cry out, my head lolling to the side when his thick middle finger prods my entrance, swirling through my pleasure. I mewl when it leaves, but within a second he’s bringing that wetness against my clit, rubbing it in slow steady circles.

  “Does that feel good, baby?”

  My lips shake. “Y-Yes. So good.”

  He hums in satisfaction, kissing my shoulder.

  My hips begin to move of their own accord, rubbing my ass into his dick. I feel him growing hard again already.

  I’ve heard tales from past friends, and overheard conversations, of some girls’ awkward first times, how it was over in minutes, sometimes even seconds. But my experience with Lachlan isn’t like any of those stories at all, but maybe that’s because he’s a man and those were boys.

  “Dani,” he growls my name into my ear, turning into a feral sound. “Fuck, you’re killing me baby.”

  He applies a little more pressure to my clit, increasing his speed. My orgasm hits like a rocket shooting into the sky. My whole body shakes and when my hands fall from the glass, my body unable to stay upright, he’s there to catch me.

  He gathers me into his arms, holding me close, gently now.

  He rubs my back as the tremors fade. “That was—”

  He silences me with a kiss. Rubbing his thumb over my cheek he stares into my eyes. “Amazing,” he finishes for me.

  Thirty minutes later we’re freshly clean and my hair is wet from being washed. Leaning against the counter in his kitchen, the shirt of his I borrowed rides up, showing off my underwear from the night before. They seem so childish but every time his eyes flick over from the skillet of eggs, they flash with desire, so it must not be too bad.

  “That smells amazing.” I rest my head in my hand, watching him cook.

  He sprinkles red and green peppers, scallions, and something my brain can’t recognize since I can’t cook, into the eggs.

  He grins over at me, looking carefree and happy. I don’t want to see that look go away. I want to remain here in this blissful bubble forever. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask for, but I know it’s an impossibility.

  “It’ll taste even better.”

  While he continues with the scrambled eggs, my eyes take a shameless perusal of his body. He tossed on a pair of sleep pants, no underwear, and that fact has been killing me from the moment I watched him. I think it should be a rule that he doesn’t wear pants. That’d be great.

  My eyes drift to his ass and how the fabric molds to the curves of it.

  “I can feel you staring at my butt.” He chances a glance over his shoulder to confirm it and I give him a naughty grin in return.

  “Trying to get my fill.”

  His eyes fill with sadness before he clears his throat and the look is gone again.

  He deposits the eggs onto two separate plates with the pieces of bread I toasted and buttered—somehow they’re a tad charred, which I can tell amuses him, but he doesn’t remark on it. He opens a drawer, grabbing two forks, and sets one on each plate.

  “Grab the orange juice,” he tells me, nodding his head at the two glasses I poured some in earlier. “I’ve got the plates.”

  With the juices in hand, I follow him to the table and we sit down to eat together.

  My cheeks color thinking about our innocent—well, not quite innocent—dinner last night and how neither of us expected any of what came next to happen.

  Lachlan takes a bite of egg. After he’s swallowed he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Reaching over, I place my hand on his. “I’m great. Stop worrying.”

  He nods, his jaw taut, but I feel better when it relaxes and he leans over to kiss my cheek.

  This feels like the picture of domestic bliss.

  If I allow myself I can pretend that we’re a couple, and this is what we do every morning. We sit down to eat together, exchange kisses, touches, and make love like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

  But Lachlan isn’t my boyfriend.

  He’s not my husband.

  He’s not even supposed to be my friend.

  In the walls of his condo it’s so easy to delude myself into thinking the outside world doesn’t exist, but it does, and our love would never be accepted. Definitely not at the school, or even in public if they knew the sordid details. I wonder what his family would think. My stomach clenches thinking of my brother.

  If Sage knew where I was, what I’d done last night with my guidance counselor, he’d kill Lachlan. I know it as well as I know the sky is blue. It would send my brother into such a rage he wouldn’t consider the ramifications.

  Lachlan reaches over, smoothing my brow. “You’re worried.”

  I know it’s a statement, but I nod anyway. “Yeah. I guess I’m the one freaking out this time.”

  “This is … complicated,” he agrees, bringing the glass to his delectable lips. “It worries me too. Stresses me the fuck out, actually.” He sets the glass down, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. “It’s so hard not to look at you like I care, like I love you, but the
moment we’re outside of here that’s what I have to do and it fucking kills me.” He clasps his hands together, bowing his head. “This is fucked.”

  I place my hand on his forearm. “Let’s not ruin this. Please? The last twelve or so hours have been the best of my life. I don’t want to feel ashamed for feeling happy.”

  He touches his fingers gently to my cheek, making sure I look into his eyes when he says, “Okay, we won’t talk about it right now.” Sitting back, he lets his hand drop. “Frankly, there’s not much more that can be said that we haven’t already. And look where that’s gotten us. I think right now the best course of action is outside of here you’re my student, I’m your counselor. But here…”

  “We’re us.”

  He gives a single nod. “Exactly.”

  Those words are easier said than done with this love that continues to grow bigger and bigger every single day.

  The stare we hold tells me he’s thinking the same thing I am.

  I’m not sure it’s possible for us to make it out of this unscathed.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  It feels strange to be back in school. The two-week break was a welcome relief, but I grew too used to being home and doing things on my own time. Getting up at six this morning killed me. It’s not like I even slept in that late during my time off, only until eight or so, but two sooner hours felt like no sleep at all.

  Stifling a yawn, I head for the school from the bus. My coat helps block some of the wind, and the snow we had before is completely melted from the freak blizzard a month ago. A bunch of news stations claim climate change is responsible for the mountains of snow we were pelted with, but honestly, who knows.

  I open the door into the school, warm air smacking me in the face.

  Spotting Sasha standing against the wall with some of her tennis buddies I head that way with a smile on my face.

  “Hey, Sasha, how was your break.”

  She moves her curly blonde hair over one shoulder. “It was good, nice to get away for a while. How was yours?” She waves to her other friends as they say goodbye, heading in the other direction.

  “Uneventful.” It was anything but, but it’s not like I can admit that I’m having sex with Mr. Taylor. Although, knowing Sasha she’d probably high-five me. “It was a nice quiet Christmas with my brother,” I elaborate, not wanting to come off as rude with my one-word answer.

  “That’s cool. Has he found a new job yet?”

  I had told Sasha via text message my brother had quit his job one night while we were texting back and forth.

  I shake my head. “With the holidays he hasn’t started looking. He said he’s going to start sending out his applications this week.” Biting my lip, I add, “I think he’s worried his old boss will block him from getting in somewhere new.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” She frowns, smoothing her hair down. “That’d be completely unfair. Is his old boss really that much of an asshole?”

  “Apparently.”

  She looks around hesitantly. “Did you see Ansel any on break?”

  “Yeah?” I arch a brow. “Why?”

  She blows out a breath. “No reason.”

  “Come on, Sasha, you can tell me.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I know I wasn’t even home, but … he hangs out with you outside of school, but not me. It’s dumb.” She blows out a breath, giving me a sad smile. “I wish I could get over this stupid crush when he clearly doesn’t like me back and never will.”

  I touch her elbow, trying to give her some sort of comfort. “You’ll move on eventually. Or who knows, maybe he’ll get the stick out of his ass and give you a chance.”

  I don’t tell her, but I don’t think he will. Honestly, I don’t know why she likes him. They’re total opposites with basically nothing in common.

  She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I doubt that. Maybe some hot new guy will transfer before the end of the year. You never know.”

  The warning bell chimes and we say our goodbyes.

  I give myself a short pep talk as I walk through the halls, assuring myself I’ll get through today, tomorrow, next week, and all the months after that leading up to graduation. I’m better now than I was at the beginning of the year, and while the last day I was here felt like a major set back, I’m here and that’s what matters.

  Lachlan takes one look at me when I enter his office and senses the rising panic inside of me.

  I thought I was okay when I got here, and I was for a little while, but murmurs echoed through the halls all day about the shooting before break. It was a harder pill to swallow than I expected hearing the conversations, names of friends injured passed around. It’s a relief that no one died, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Principal Gordon even had all the teachers pass around papers with information on new safety measures that had been put in place while we were on break. Like more cameras, and extra security checks on anyone that’s not staff trying to enter the building. I’m glad they’re taking this seriously, but at the same time it’s tragic that it’s come to this.

  The door closes behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  Somehow, without me noticing since I was so lost in my head, Lachlan has appeared in front of me. In a blink his arms are around me.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” He stiffens the moment the words are out of his mouth.

  “It seems like everyone is talking about the shooting.” My words are muffled by his shirt. I step out of his embrace, giving him an apologetic smile. Guilt clings to me, because if someone walked in on us I would know in my gut that there’s nothing innocent about us touching.

  He steps back, leaning his butt against his desk and crossing his muscular arms over his chest. I try not to think about the fact that only a day ago I saw that delectable bare ass in his shower.

  I take a seat on the loveseat, away from him. My backpack falls from my arm to rest on the carpeted floor.

  Drawing my legs up, I wrap my arms around them and rest my chin on my knees.

  “I feel so stupid for getting upset about it.”

  “Why do you think it made you feel that way?”

  I arch a brow. “Don’t go all shrink on me.”

  A laugh bursts out of him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound like one. But I think the best way to move forward is to figure out why hearing about it upsets you—is it the way people speak about it? Is it because it happened at all? Is it because it’s too close to home?”

  “All of it?” The words come out as a question for some reason. He gives me a moment to sort through my thoughts. “I think a lot comes back to the fact that it shouldn’t be a conversation that’s happening at all.”

  He nods in agreement. “That makes sense.”

  “Hearing it over and over again sucks. It makes me remember what happened to me, and then I think about kids talking about me, and everyone else who was hurt or died that day. It makes my stomach hurt.”

  I don’t tell Lachlan, but I spent my lunch period in the bathroom dry heaving. Sasha and Ansel blew up my phone, trying to see if I was okay, or where I was, but I didn’t have the energy, nor the heart, to text them back.

  Lachlan stares at me for a long moment, his face tight. “I wish I could make this all go away for you.”

  “Yeah, well you can’t.” I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just the reality. Rubbing a hand over my face I say, “I’m doing better, but it’s hard. It’s only been a year. It’s still fresh.”

  “No one expects you to be over it.” His voice is assuring, his eyes sad. “Healing takes time, mental scars are some of the deepest, and to be frank with you, Dani, this will stay with you your whole life. The best course of action is to find ways for you to cope. When something begins to upset you, you need to think of something else.” He ponders on his own words. “Maybe you could think of a favorite memory, or a dream of the future, to focus on and drown out the other thoughts.”

  I pluck at the hair elastic on my wrist. �
�Do you think I should’ve died that day?”

  His eyes widen in horror, lips falling open. “Why the hell would you say that?”

  “I don’t know … my mom died, others too.”

  Suddenly he’s squatted right in front of me. Despite the ramifications he grabs my hand, holding it gently in both of his. “Yeah and others survived that day too, Dani. You’re meant to be here for a reason. Never ever doubt that. Do you hear me? I never want to hear you say such a thing again. You’re right where you’re meant to be.”

  With me, he leaves unsaid, or at least I hear those two silent words hanging there.

  I glance at the window, the open blinds where anyone could walk by. Quickly, I touch my free hand to his cheek, and lean in to place a tender kiss on his lips. It’s over in a second, but it’s much needed. I already feel stronger.

  I look out the window again, finding it still empty outside.

  Quietly, I admit, “That day is always going to be a dark cloud over me, isn’t it?”

  He shakes his head. “No, baby. That dark cloud is going to turn gray, then it’s going to clear off, but here’s the thing—we need the rainy days to appreciate the sunny ones. So when those bad days come around, don’t dwell on them. Use them instead to remind yourself of all the good you have.”

  “Why are you so smart?”

  He laughs. “Trust me, I’m not that smart. I’m in love with you, aren’t I?” Even though the words could be hurtful, he grins as he says them.

  I punch him lightly in the arm. “Wrong, that makes you even smarter. I’m a catch.”

  He chuckles, standing up. He grabs his chair, pulling it around and in front of his desk. He settles into it and we spend the rest of the period talking about books.

  When I leave my heart feels a smidge lighter.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Standing outside the condo’s gym I question why I’m even here.

  I know my hesitation is silly, because I can’t run doesn’t mean I can’t exercise. My doctors mentioned how biking would be good, even the elliptical, but my heart yearns for the mindlessness of running, how I could zone out and feel the pavement pounding beneath my feet.