Truly, Madly, Deeply Page 4
“It’s going good, how you been. It’s been a while,” Jaron responded.
“Oh you know, same ole. It’s all good though. What can I get yall to drink,” he asked smiling at me for a second before returning his attention to Jaron.
“I’ll have a Miller light, in a bottle and a strawberry daiquiri,” Jaron replied.
I looked at him amusedly. He most certainly did not seem like a daiquiri kind of guy. The friendly waiter looked at me, waiting for my order. “Oh, I’ll just have ice water with lemon please,” I said, probably too sweetly. A dead give-away that I was younger than I looked.
The deck was deserted except for one other couple, huddled around their table grinning goofily at each other. The breeze coupled with the fan blew my hair softly about my face and I ran my fingers through it spinning it at the end in an attempt to tame it. With the hair tie around my wrist, I pulled it back into a loose pony tail. I looked up to find Jaron’s searing gaze on me. His chest heaved as he sucked in a deep breath and blinked slowly as he exhaled. Though my knowledge of such things was limited, I was sure it was lust boiling just beneath the surface of those blue eyes. He ran his thumb across his bottom lip slowly almost hypnotizing me. I was more than grateful for the interruption when the waiter delivered our drinks and took our order before disappearing inside.
When he left us, Jaron slid the icy pink daiquiri topped with fluffy whipped cream across the small table to me and smiled mischievously.
“It’s more like a dessert than an alcoholic beverage,” he said quietly, and he was right. It was cold and sweet and once the cream mixed in with it, it was better than a milkshake.
“Thank you,” I said smiling. “It’s really good.”
“You’re welcome. I knew you’d like it. You look very pretty, by the way,” he said, trying to conceal a grin.
“Thank you. But, I thought you didn’t like my dress,” I said smartly.
“I love it,” he replied. “But so does every other guy you walk past.”
I crinkled my brow in a look of confusion. “So, I’m not supposed to look pretty because other guys might look at me. Really?” Tiffany was right on with this one.
He shrugged, “I can’t help it Natalie. I don’t like the thought of other guys,” he paused contemplatively, “thinking about you, the way I’m thinking about you right now.” His jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. My face burned red.
“So, your horses, can you ride them,” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
“They wouldn’t be worth much if I couldn’t.”
I rolled my eyes at his retort. “Can we go riding sometime?”
“Whenever you want to go,” he replied. “We can go tomorrow if you want.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised?”
I twirled the straw around my fancy glass, stirring in more of the sweet cream. “I don’t know. I just figured after seeing me two days in a row, you might have better things to do.”
His eyes grew cloudy, almost sad, as he searched my face, “I honestly can’t think of anything better,” he said sweetly, reaching across the table to rub the top of my hand with his finger.
Through-out dinner we talked and laughed quietly. It occurred to me that we must look and sound a lot like the couple I noticed upon our arrival. The one that I thought looked like they were very much in love. When we had finished eating, the sun was hanging just above the horizon and the sky was a brilliant wash of pinks and purples.
“Walk with me,” he said, standing and extending his hand.
I took his hand and rose from my seat and followed him to the steps leading off the deck. We descended them and followed a well-worn trail that led to a sand covered river bank. We walked slowly, silently, holding hands, until we came across a group of large rocks and sat to watch the sun complete its plunge into the tree line. I sat between Jaron’s legs, his arms wrapped around me and felt completely, at home.
“What are you thinking,” I whispered, as if I didn’t want anyone to hear.
He leaned down and rested his chin on my shoulder, next to my ear. “I’m thinking, that you smell good.”
“It’s lavender. Perfume gives me a headache, so Tiffany’s mom started buying me pure lavender oil.”
“It’s nice.”
“Nothing else on your mind?”
“I think it’s weird that I feel like I’ve missed you all this time. And now that we’re together, I don’t ever want us to be apart.” His words were barely more than a whisper. “That’s crazy, huh?”
I turned in his arms to look in his eyes, “No, it’s not crazy at all. I’m having a hard time understanding why I feel like I’ve always known you, too.”
He kissed me chastely on the forehead and I sat cradled in his arms, the breeze blowing off the water, until the rainbow sky became completely dark. I tried to sort through the ton of emotions scrambling around in my brain. I was only seventeen, had never had a real boyfriend, had no idea what love felt like and on top of it all, I didn’t even know Jaron Blake. I had let him take my virginity within hours of being in his presence. He had that kind of effect on me. I rationalized that what I was feeling was just a heady mix of hormones and sentimentality over the loss of my virginity. No one really falls in love at first sight.
“What are you thinking,” he asked, snapping me from my musing.
I felt my cheeks flush. I couldn’t tell him I was trying to decide if I was in love. How childish would he think me.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“You’re lying,” he called me on it, squeezing me gently.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Can we go,” I whispered.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
“Have I been that bad of a date,” he asked frowning worriedly.
I ran my hands down his arms and entwined my fingers with his, wrapping our arms around me, “I want to go home with you,” I said sweetly.
Jaron chuckled into the nape of my neck and kissed me there softly. “Yeah, we can go.”
With the typical serenade of 80’s rock ballads playing softly, Jaron took my hand, “Dance with me,” he asked or demanded, I still was unsure, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing I wanted more than to be wrapped in his arms as he rocked me softly. With a demure smile I followed him to the center of his living room floor and melted into him.
His right hand pressed into the small of my back, burning me to my core. His left, pressed my hand to his chest, where I could feel his heart pounding. One song gave way to another, and our bodies stayed welded together, keeping time. He held me so sweetly, so close, I could feel each contour. My mind set out memorizing him, every inch. After at least three songs, he finally looked down at me and pulled my hair free from the pony tail holder and ran his fingers up the back of my neck, gently tilting my head back so our eyes aligned. His eyes smoldered dark and endless, the look alone, enough to make my breath catch in my throat. His lips barely touched mine, taunting. His tongue tasted me gingerly. My body shivered in reaction.
“Jaron,” the name slipped shakily through my lips as his hand kneaded the loose fabric at the back of my dress, easily finding the curve of my ample behind.
“Do you want me to stop,” he whispered into my lips.
My body screamed, please no don’t stop, and my lips relayed the message. “No.” My tone was whiny and pleading causing him to chuckle, softly, lustfully into my mouth, while scooping me into his arms and retreating down the darkened hallway.
Chapter Three
One weekend turned into a week, then two and before I knew it, I had been with Jaron for almost three weeks. Tiffany was pouty, feeling neglected since I had only seen her or spoken to her a few times. Nearly every waking minute of the day and night was filled with Jaron, except for the occasional private phone conversation he would take in another room, or sometimes outside. I was terribly curious about them, but hadn’t worke
d up the courage to ask.
He paced on the front porch with his phone to his ear. The conversation had become heated. Jaron’s voice grew loud and angry as he strung together several expletives in response to the person on the other end. When the shouting stopped and the door slammed, I tried to busy myself in the kitchen. He never talked to me about things like the phone calls or the creepy guy who owed him money. He just wrapped his arms around me and took slow deep breathes, as if breathing me in was a sedative. After three weeks, I still did not have the guts to question him. Honestly, I was afraid of what the answer might be.
I stood still with his arms around my waist and his heart pounding against my back, knowing it was what he needed. When his agitation settled and his heart rate slowed, I turned and slid my arms around his neck, searching his blue eyes for a clue. But it was hard to look too long, without drowning. He blinked lazily down at me then lifted me onto the counter. He stood between my legs with his fingers through my belt loops. His thumbs softly rubbed my sides, under my shirt.
“I have to go out of town for a few days,” he said reluctantly.
I frowned at the news. Jaron and I had barely spent a minute apart in nearly three weeks. “Why? Where are you going,” I whined.
It was the first time I had questioned him about anything and I was unsure what his reaction would be. I told myself I didn’t care about his reaction, but was admittedly relieved when he looked amused.
“Why? You gonna miss me,’ he grinned wolfishly, skillfully dodging the question.
“Yes,” I pouted.
His eyes darkened and he pulled me to the edge of the counter, “Well, I’ll have to give you something to think about while I’m gone.”
There was something cautioning, almost threatening in his tone. My heart rate quickened with fear and excitement, like only Jaron could elicit, as he stared in my eyes and unbuttoned my shorts.
“Lay back,” he ordered.
I swallowed hard, blushing, “Here?”
“Now,” was his only answer and I obeyed. He slid my shorts, along with my panties, down my legs slowly until they fell to the floor.
I closed my eyes tight and my body quivered as his hands slowly made the climb backup, from my ankles all the way to my thighs, parting them when they reached the top. I bit my lip and whimpered quietly as I trembled and blushed crimson from head to toe. I heard his now familiar, devious chuckle, and knew he was pleased with my reaction. Jaron had touched every inch of me in the days we had spent together and made me weak with orgasm time and time again in the cloak of darkness and dimly lit rooms. But at noon on a Wednesday, splayed across his kitchen counter, I was completely exposed.
I flinched when his mouth latched onto my inner thigh, sucking so hard it left a stinging mark. He gently licked and kissed the hickey and moved higher, than higher still. My fingers dug into the counter top and I moaned breathlessly when his tongue found its final destination. My legs closed around his head reflexively and he forced them open, even wider.
With one hand he held my thigh; with the other he filled me. My muscles clenched tight around his fingers as his tongue tortured me sweetly. I cried out and his chuckle vibrated against my skin. I wiggled and writhed under his assault until I could stand no more. My fingers fisted in his hair as I grinded against his tongue, causing him to growl with desire. When he could taste my release and my convulsions ended, he scooped me up to the couch. I foggily watched him undress and clumsily removed my own shirt. His perfection still took my breath, as if I were seeing it for the first time. He entered me hard and fast and deep then stilled inside me. His mouth covered mine in a slow, deep very wet kiss and I tasted myself on his lips for the first time, which I knew was his intent.
Lying naked on the couch, nothing but Jaron wrapped around me, I felt completely content. He held me tight, breathing deep until the storm completely passed.
“Will that hold you over for a few days,” he whispered into my ear, nuzzling.
“Yes, but I still don’t want you to go.” I realized he never told me where he was going, but I didn’t ask again. If he wanted me to know, he would’ve told me, and I was too weak to push it.
“I want you to stay at Tiffany’s,” his tone became serious. Surprising because he hadn’t said as much, but I had the feeling Tiffany was not his favorite.
“I have to go home sooner or later Jaron.” His face hardened. “Ok, I’ll stay with Tiff till you’re back. But then I have to go home. School starts in a couple weeks,” I declared.
“Um, hm,” was his only response and I felt certain that he was not agreeing, only pacifying me. He kissed my cheek chastely and swatted my butt. “Hop up, go get your shower. I have to pack a bag.”
“When are you leaving?”
“A couple of hours,” he said quietly. I detected the dread in his voice. He was going despite the fact that he didn’t really want to. I knew it must be important, whatever it was.
I started to whine, “Hush now,” he ordered. “I’d shower with you, but I’d never get gone on time.” He swatted me again, harder, and chuckled.
We rolled up to Tiffany’s drive at 2:45 pm. My old Ford still sat at the side. I hadn’t driven it at all since our first date. Jaron always dropped me off and picked me up. It was going to be weird being without him for a few days.
Before he let me out of the truck, he ran through a do and don’t list. “I will call you every afternoon, so keep your phone with you.” I was still unaccustomed to having a cell phone and left it lying around everywhere. “Don’t be drinking, and if you have to go to your house for some reason, please don’t go alone. I will try to be back Sunday.” I peered at him from under raised brows.
“What?” he asked, completely unaware of how bossy he was.
“You sound a lot like a boyfriend,” I teased, the nature of our relationship still undiscussed.
He opened the door and stepped out, stopping me before my butt could slide completely out of the seat. He cupped my face in his hands. Rubbing my cheek with his thumb, he searched my eyes intently. “Promise me,” he demanded.
“Promise,” I said, smiling cutely. After one long, lingering kiss, I watched him drive away.
I knocked twice and walked in the door. No one appeared to be home, but I could hear music coming from the back. Just as I suspected, Tiffany was busy lying by the pool.
“Hey hussy,” I yelled, kicking her lounge chair. Tiffany jumped and jerked down her glasses, looking sullen. I had totally neglected her since I started seeing Jaron. I hadn’t even taken the time to give her any details about the amazing new sex life I had. Though I wasn’t sure I could. I blushed bright red just thinking about it.
“Oh, come on Tiff, don’t be mad at me,” I pleaded.
“Where have you been? You haven’t even called me in a week,” she grumbled. She was so pouty. I could picture her crossing her arms and stomping her foot. “I had about decided Jaron Blake had locked you in his dungeon or something.”
“Jaron doesn’t have a dungeon, and I am all yours for the rest of the week. Jaron had to go out of town and won’t be back until Sunday.” I plopped down on the chair beside her.
“What for,” she asked curiously.
“Beats me,” I answered, shrugging and closing my eyes to the sun.
“You didn’t ask?”
“I did, but he didn’t answer.”
“And you just let it go,” her face crinkled in surprise.
“He’s not exactly one to be pushed, Tiffany,” I said, a hint of unease in my voice.
She sat up on the side of her lounger, “He doesn’t hurt you, does he,” she asked concernedly, covertly scanning me for signs of abuse.
“No! He doesn’t hurt me. He’s just very,” I paused, searching, “in control.” I did my best to clarify without making him sound like the bad guy. “Besides, it’s not really any of my business.”
“Um, what your boyfriend does is your business.”
“I don’t think he’s
my boyfriend.”
“You’re practically living with him Natalie and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He is definitely your boyfriend.”
“OK, whatever,” I was starting to tire of her misogynistic tone toward Jaron. “So what do you want to do? Anything going on?”
“Well, the football team’s bonfire is Friday night”
“That’ll be fun, but I can’t drink,” I said, half informing her, half reminding myself.
Her look became serious, “Why can’t you drink? You’re not knocked up are you?”
“No. You know I’m on the pill, we went together.”
“Yeah, but if you forgot to take it one day…..”
“Well, I didn’t and I’m not. Jaron made me promise that I wouldn’t drink,” I clarified.
“Of course he did.” She gave me a side-ways look as she returned her oversized sunglasses to her face and reclined back on her chair.
We spent the rest of the day swimming and relaxing. I did my best to fill her in on my new relationship without sharing too many of the more intimate details. And I made sure to keep my phone close in case he called.
After a fun, relaxed and wasted day, 11:00 pm rolled around and I lay in Tiffany’s queen sized bed, feeling disappointed that I hadn’t heard from him. Just as I started to drift off, my phone sounded from the night stand.
“Hello,” I answered anxiously, my voice a little groggy.
“Hey,” Jaron’s voice came over the line.
“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to call tonight. I was almost asleep.”
“I can tell, your sleepy voice,” I imagined him smiling sweetly. “Are you at Tiffany’s?” he asked.
“Yes, where else would I be?”
“Just checking. I didn’t mention it, but I don’t want you at my house by yourself either,” he informed. More orders!
“Okay,” is said slowly, inquisitively.
“You wouldn’t want to be there if I had another unexpected visitor, would you,” he asked flatly, referring to the creepy guy form my first morning there.