Truly, Madly, Deeply Read online

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged.

  “Oh my God Natalie,” he moaned. I had never heard my name spoken with such a lust laden voice.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly as a kaleidoscope of colors burst behind my lids. Sensations, like a million little pop rocks under my skin, sizzled throughout my body. Jaron pushed even deeper as I convulsed beneath him.

  When I stilled, he began to pump in and out, faster and faster. His fingers tangled in the back of my hair and tugged lightly, forcing a moan of pain induced pleasure from my throat. He rose up to his knees and clutched my legs, thrusting in and out, harder, faster, jerking out suddenly as he climaxed onto my stomach. I laid there wide eyed and panting, unsure of what to do. He took a second to catch his breath then leaned over me. A hand on each side of my head, he stared down, assessing my expression.

  “Are you ok,” he asked sincerely, his voice low and hoarse.

  I nodded and blinked lazily. He chuckled, but I didn’t care. He kissed me sweetly before jumping up and retrieving a towel from a chair in the corner of the room. Tenderly, he dried my belly and smiled impishly at my flushed cheeks.

  “Sorry,” he said as he rubbed the towel over me. “But I hate rubbers.”

  Alarms went off in my head. Oh, my God. I just had unprotected sex with a guy I just met. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. Jaron Blake had completely hypnotized me and I let him take my virginity, without wearing a condom. He chuckled as he rolled into bed beside me.

  “You’ll be ok, I pulled in time, I promise,” he said as if he read my mind.

  He pulled me to him and my wearied body melted against him. I wasn’t sure, but I was willing to bet that I had just had the best first time a girl could dream of with the sexiest man I had ever met. A man I had just met! I whimpered at the thought of what Jaron was thinking about me in that moment.

  “What is it,” he whispered.

  “I can only imagine what you’re thinking about me right now, giving it up on the first date.”

  He brushed my long brown hair away from my face, “I’m thinking,” he paused, “that I can’t believe how lucky I am that your first time was with me. And I’m thinking, I hope I get to keep you.”

  Chapter Two

  When my eyes fluttered open, soft morning sunlight was filtering through the window of the unfamiliar room and I was alone. I surveyed the space, much like the living room, it was sparingly furnished but neatly done in varying shades of neutrals; grays and tans and creams. My clothes still lay in the floor where Jaron had undressed me. His jeans and boots still lay in the floor where he had undressed and I could still hear music playing softly from the living room. I climbed out of bed and slipped on a t-shirt that was folded on top of the dresser. I poked my head out and looked both ways in the hall to make sure the coast was clear before darting into the bathroom. I started the shower, jumped in, washed quickly, avoiding getting my hair wet, and jumped out. I dried with the towel hanging neatly on the towel bar and redressed in the long t-shirt.

  When I opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall, I was accosted by a tall figure, that wasn’t Jaron.

  “Well hello there,” the stranger purred, his eyes roaming.

  “Excuse me,” I said nervously, lowering my head and trying to squeeze by and escape into Jaron’s room. The man stepped, blocking my path.

  “Where’s Jaron,” I asked looking up at the unwanted visitor. Panic rose in my throat when I recognized the face, bruised and busted from the night before.

  “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing,” he sneered.

  I swallowed hard. Where was Jaron? Why did he leave me here alone? And what the hell was this man doing in his house? I crossed my arms over my chest to conceal my breasts that lay bare beneath the thin cotton shirt. I started to tremble as I considered my next move. The man stepped closer and I side stepped, darted past and headed toward the living room. My pace quickened as tears started welling in my eyes and the man’s footsteps followed slowly. Just before I broke into a run and burst into tears, I rounded the corner, crashing into Jaron’s chest. I pushed him back until recognition took hold. He held me out at arms-length and tilted his head.

  “Hey, what’s the matter,” he asked with a furrowed brow.

  Before I could answer, the man stepped out of the hall. Jaron’s expression turned cold, deadly. He pushed me behind him, “What the fuck are you doing here,” he snarled, stepping forward. The man stopped and raised his hands in surrender.

  “Relax Jaron. I came to bring you your money,” he said, pulling a thick, white envelope from his back pocket and tossing it on the coffee table.

  “Why the hell is she crying,” Jaron growled his fists clenched at his sides.

  “I didn’t touch her,” the man insisted, throwing his hands in the air. Jaron looked at me and I shook my head, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.

  He turned back to the man, “Get out and don’t come back. I ain’t got nothing else for you, ever.”

  The man eyed me as he backed out of the room and Jaron bristled. “See ya around,” he said as he turned and disappeared out the front door.

  I stood behind Jaron with my arms wrapped around myself, shaking. My mind raced and my fear turned to aggravation, “Where the hell were you,” I screeched, when he faced me. “How the hell did he just walk up in here?”

  He looked down at me stone faced, “Don’t cuss at me Natalie,” he ordered, cautioning.

  My lip quivered involuntarily at his scolding, “Where were you,” I whimpered.

  “I was feeding the horses,” he explained. “I just came in the back door and was coming to check on you when you rounded the corner.” He sidled up and enveloped me in a comforting embrace. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, he just creeped me out and I didn’t know if you were here, and my clothes were in the bedroom,” my voice trailed off.

  “Is this my t-shirt?” He grinned.

  “Yeah,” I pouted. His hands slid down the back of the cotton shirt and cupped my behind. Effortlessly, he lifted me. My arms wrapped around his neck and my legs around his waist as he carried me to the kitchen and set my bare butt on the counter.

  “I don’t have any panties on,” I whispered, blushing.

  “I know,” he chuckled, lifting the front of my shirt. I closed my legs tightly and jerked the shirt down, stretching it over my knees, my face glowing crimson. He leaned in and kissed my nose.

  “You hungry,” he asked, turning his attention to the refrigerator and pulling out some bacon and frozen waffles.

  “Yes, I am. What time is?”

  “A little after eight. Why? You got somewhere better to be?”

  “Nooo,” I answered, dragging the word out. “But I was supposed to be staying at Tiffany’s. She’s probably freaking out, I didn’t even call her.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me, “Call her so she knows you’re still alive. I don’t want anyone calling the law on me,” he grinned.

  I took the phone and dialed Tiff’s number. After the fourth ring she answered drowsily, “Hello.”

  “Hey Tiff, it’s me.”

  “Where the heck are you?”

  “Um, I’m at Jaron’s,” I confessed quietly, as if it were a secret, causing Jaron to chuckle over the bacon sizzling on the stove.

  “All night,” she probed.

  “Yes.” I resorted to short answers, not wanting to go into the details I knew she wanted with Jaron listening.

  “Well, when are you coming home, or here,” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I mumbled, glancing up at him.

  “Are you okay, Natalie?” Tiffany was fully awake now and her voice was full of concern.

  “Yep, I’ll be there in a little bit,” I tried to sound up beat to put her at ease.

  “Okay,” she agreed hesitantly. “Love ya Nat,” she said before hanging up and I knew she rolled over and went back to sleep. I laid the phone on the counter and
Jaron turned to me with an eyebrow raised.

  “All good?”

  I nodded, biting my lip pensively.

  “What,” he asked, holding his hands out to the side and frowning at my expression.

  I mustered my courage and swallowed the growing lump in my throat. “What happens now,” I asked hesitantly.

  He walked to me and placed a hand under each thigh and leaned in. His blue eyes gleamed. “What do you mean, what happens now?”

  I felt my cheeks warming. I struggled to not sound needy. “I mean, with us. We’re not even a couple or anything and we just,” I stopped, realizing my efforts to not sound needy were failing miserably.

  “I meant what I said last night, Natalie.”

  “Honestly, I don’t remember anything you said last night,” I grinned coyly.

  He chuckled. “I said, I want to keep you.” He looked up at me through his dark lashes. For a moment I thought his cheeks pinked slightly.

  I bit my lower lip and beamed down at him. He leaned in close and kissed me slow. On the lips, the cheek, the ear, then whispered provocatively, “But what’s going to happen right now,” he paused, his warm breath caressed my ear, “is bacon and waffles,” and he pulled back smiling playfully.

  I walked up the steps of Tiffany’s porch around noon. I turned to wave at Jaron, who was watching me intently from his truck, before opening the door with the taste of his kiss still on my lips when it closed behind me. I could hear Tiffany giggling in the kitchen and followed the sound. As usual, she was on the phone; talking to a boy I was betting. When she turned, spoon full of peanut butter in one hand, phone in the other, and saw me, she squeeled and hurriedly ended her call.

  “Okay, spill it,” she demanded giddily.

  I tried to contain my childish smile but it was impossible. I felt my face turn beet red.

  “Oh. My. Gosh. You totally did it!” she screamed.

  I bit my lip and nodded shyly, still unable to speak.

  “Was it terrible, my first time was terrible,” she confessed. Being almost a year older and beautiful since birth, Tiffany gave in to the hounding, months before me, with a senior football player that she dated for six months. Once he graduated, it was over. He was going away to college and had no intentions of having a high school girlfriend.

  “No. It was,” I paused searching for the words. “Jaron is very good at, it,” I said vaguely.

  “Well, he is twenty, something. I’m sure he has plenty of experience. I was worried he would pressure you, but by the look on your face, I’m taking it you were more than willing. Slut,” she teased.

  I took a deep breath and shook my head, “He’s so,” I mused dreamily.

  “Hot, sexy, dangerous,” Tiffany began to rattle off adjectives to complete my stalled sentence.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But, there’s just something else about him.”

  “Don’t get too wrapped up in him Natalie. He’s a heart breaker. I don’t want you to get hurt,” she warned.

  “I won’t,” I lied. It was too late for that. I was already totally beguiled.

  “So when are you going to see him again,” she quizzed, leaning on the counter and licking the peanut butter from the spoon. I grabbed my own spoon and dunked it in the peanut butter jar. “He better freaking call you after popping your cherry or I swear.”

  “He’s picking me up at six.”

  “Tonight,” she gasped.

  “Yep. He said he had something he had to do this afternoon, but he would be here to pick me up at six, for the date we didn’t get to go on last night.”

  “Huh, you went on a date last night,” she looked befuddled.

  “We, never really went anywhere. I mean, we grabbed some fries at Sonic then he got in a fight, then we kissed, then we went to his house.”

  “Wow! That must have been some kiss,” she said with raised brow.

  “You have no idea,” I mumbled distractedly, remembering the taste of whiskey and blood on his lips and how it aroused me.

  “Wait, who’d he get in a fight with,” she asked, wide eyed and riveted.

  “We made a stop by some guy’s house and some other guy was there that owed him money. The next thing I knew, he was flying out the door and beating the guys ass. The weirdo showed up at his house this morning with the money.”

  “So, Jaron Blake lives up to his reputation,” she noted.

  “Yes, he does, and then some,” I said, grinning suggestively.

  We broke out in the stereotypical girly giggles and ran through the house. It was a large, ranch style home, with big beautifully decorated rooms and a pool in the back yard, hands down one of the nicest in town. I always felt fortunate to have Tiffany’s friendship, considering I came from beyond the wrong side of the tracks. But, her parents were truly wonderful and had always accepted me as part of the family, especially after Jake left. That’s when I started seeking refuge from mom’s lifestyle.

  The rest of the day was spent lounging by the pool and discussing her love life. It was a welcome reprieve for me, because just thinking about what I had experienced the night before at Jaron’s hands, flustered me.

  She had already started planning her birthday party which would be the last Saturday of Spring Break. This year she planned on it being a big one, complete with PGA punch and loud music. That is, after she had birthday cake and fruit punch with her parents, of course. She had already worked out a location. Her older brother had agreed to let her have it at his house outside of town, so he could hit on the drunken girls, no doubt. As she rambled, I found myself lost in thought and watching the time.

  When 4:00 rolled around, I excused myself and went in the house to start getting ready. I had another cute outfit I had bought with my birthday money, and this time it wasn’t a mini skirt, which seemed to offend Jaron. Although, it was a cute little sundress, the skirt was at least three inches longer. It was really cute, sweet even. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I found myself trying to gauge Jaron’s reaction, sincerely concerned about whether or not he would be pleased.

  “You look precious,” Tiffany said, entering the room.

  “Thank you. I’m worried that the skirt’s too short. What do you think?”

  She looked at me, confused. “Too short? There’s no such thing as too short,” she snorted.

  “According to Jaron there is. He said my mini skirt was too short last night.”

  “Oh did he now,” she said, bobbing her head hatefully, leaving me feeling like I needed to defend him.

  “I mean, he said I looked really good, but later that night, he mentioned that my skirt was way too short. Like he wouldn’t want me to wear it if I wasn’t with him, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said, hand on her hip, head still bobbing, “he will be a jealous boyfriend. I’m telling you Natalie, be careful with this one,” she spoke like a wise older sister and it made me laugh. Her experience, though greater than mine, consisted of a handful of high school boys.

  “Yes Dr. Phil,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

  It was almost six when the doorbell rang. I jumped, wide eyed, “He’s early. Crap, go answer the door before your mom or dad gets it,” I ordered. The last thing I needed was any parental knowledge of my not quite legal relationship. Her parents did not pay a lot of attention to what we were up to most of the time, but if it came knocking on the door; it would be hard to ignore.

  Tiffany being Tiffany, ran to the door and answered it in her bikini. I already recognized the disapproving tone of his voice when he asked for me. Tiffany informed him I would be out in a minute. Before she antagonized him further, I came flying down the hall, kissed her cheek, winked and closed the door behind me.

  Standing on the porch under Jaron’s scrutinizing gaze, I became painfully nervous. Inwardly, I prayed he would like my dress and that it wasn’t too short. Without speaking, he took my hand and led me to the truck. I bit my lip that threatened to quiver from his silent treatment. He opened
the truck door for me and I noticed a sly grin creeping across his face as I slid past into the seat. Relief washed over me. Once inside the truck, concealed by the darkly tinted windows, he pulled my face to his and kissed me longingly, like a sailor that had been out to sea for months. I melted.

  “You and these damn short dresses,” he smirked leaning back in his seat, leaving me hanging by a thread.

  I frowned. “It’s not as short as the mini skirt,” I defended.

  He leaned back in the seat, one arm draped across the back, the other hand slowly sliding up my leg, from my knee. It easily slid right up my thigh and one finger hooked in the seam of my panties, just below my hip. My eyes popped and my mouth gaped. Instinctively I pulled my raised hem down.

  “See, it’s too easy to get there,” he said after his demonstration. “But, as long as your with me, I guess its okay,” he smiled sideways.

  Disconcerted, I remained silent. With both hands on the wheel he drove us away from Tiffany’s toward city limits opposite the direction of his house.

  “Where are we going,” I finally managed.

  “I thought I would take you on a real date, since last night wasn’t all that great,” he said, insensitively. I grimaced at the thought I had disappointed him somehow. Regret instantly flooded his blue eyes, “I mean, last night was amazing for me, but as far as a date, you didn’t get the kind of treatment you deserve,” he said softly, rubbing the inside of my knee tenderly with the back of his hand, raising chill bumps all over my body. I shivered slightly, and he chuckled, his husky, private joke little chuckle that both agitated and stirred me.

  Our journey ended two towns over at a little restaurant on the river. We walked in and were immediately seated at a table on the covered deck with a clear view of a river barge as it slowly made its way upstream. Large ceiling fans whirred above and as the sun started to set, the evening breeze felt cool and calming.

  “Hey Jaron, how’s it going buddy,” a tall clean cut waiter asked, spiritedly shaking Jaron’s hand.