Just A Small Town Girl (11 page)

“Piper,” my name was an exhale, somehow more masculine than a gasp, but still seeming like an uncontrollable expletive.

“Please keep going. If I watch you two I don’t have to go through the effort of searching for porn,” Kyle interrupted, earning an embarrassed flush from me, death glare from Fisher, accusatory look from Bailey, and high five from Dustin, who looked apologetic when Bailey fixed her stare on him instead. Kyle shrugged, unscathed, “We’re going for celebratory dinner right?” he looked down at Riley, “and I’m getting you the most sugar filled thing you can eat because I think it will be funny to watch your daddy try to stop me.”

We made ‘Uncle Kyle,’ as he so affectionately referred to himself, stay until Riley was asleep in his crib. He’d made good on his promise to get Riley hyped up on sugar, but Bailey’s scolding seemed to weigh heavily enough with Dustin that he convinced Kyle to stay and help us put the little sugar created demon to sleep.

I was closing the door behind Kyle when warm hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me into Fisher’s equally warm chest. I snuggled my spine into him, enjoying the comfortable silence for a few moments. I noticed our breaths syncing. My chest rising as his did, making the beat of his heart against my back more apparent. I closed my eyes, enjoying the steady strength he offered.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he murmured into my hair.

Unsure of how to respond, I changed the subject, “You sir, owe me a celebration,” I turned to face him, but he kept his arms tight, forcing my body flush against his.

“I believe you’re supposed to ask nicely,” he answered, running his hands up my back, splaying his fingers across my shoulder blades before tracing a path back until his hands rested just above my behind.

I stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down, pressing our lips together tentatively. When he applied a little pressure in return, but didn’t deepen our kiss I slipped my tongue along the seam where his lips met. He opened slightly, his tongue dipping into my mouth, where I sucked it gently between my lips. I dug my fingers into his hair, pressing myself closer to him, needing every inch of our bodies to touch. Fisher continued the gentle kiss until I trailed off, alternating soft nips, kisses and running my tongue across his jaw and to his neck. I pressed a warm kiss to a spot just below his ear and he broke.

His hands dropped to my behind and in a matter of seconds his warm palms were wrapped around my thighs where my skirt rode up, lifting my body as he pinned me against the front door, his mouth back on mine; demanding more of me, which I willingly gave. My hips rolled against the erection I could feel through his jeans and he released a deep groan into my mouth at the sensation.

He carried me to the couch, not even breaking the kiss when he stumbled slightly and I laughed into his mouth. He sat, my body still straddling his. I used my new position to my advantage, running my hands down his neck and to the front of his t-shirt, pulling the fabric up and away from his body, so I could kiss his chest while my hips continued to grind into him. My arms crossed my front, pulling my own shirt over my head and revealing the bright pink lace of my bra to him. I said a silent thank you I’d felt like wearing pretty underwear that day before leaning in to kiss him again, letting my hands wander over the muscled plains of his chest. His mouth opened further to me while his hands squeezed my backside, working in rhythm with my motions. I was struck with the sudden need to feel the smooth skin of his chest rubbing against my nipples and reached behind my back to unclasp my bra, tossing it to the side before pressing my chest against his, loving the rub of my skin against his as I moved against him.

I slid my hands down his sides, caressing the muscle and rib until my fingers met the waistband of his jeans. I slowly trailed my fingers to the button on the front and unclasped it, making quick work of the zipper. I’d started to pull down the elastic waist of his boxers, when Fisher’s hand wrapped around my wrist.

“Piper,” he whispered, his eyes opening and instantly fixing me with a look.

“It’s okay,” I smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. I really appreciated his respect for me, but I was a big girl and I knew I wanted nothing more at that moment than to feel Fisher inside of me.

Before our lips met he spoke again, “No, It’s not,” his eyes darted around the room, “we can’t.”

I laughed, disbelieving the man below me, whose excitement I could still feel pressing against my pink lace panties, was refusing me, “Of course we can,” I smiled, “I’d say I’ll show you how, but considering Riley I’m guessing you’ve done this before.”

“That’s exactly why we can’t take this any further tonight.”

“Riley?” I asked, flipping my leg over his lap, so I could sit beside him. I felt too vulnerable; topless, on his lap, and being denied.

“It’s not you,” he started and anger started to rise in my throat, tasting like bile.

“Of course it’s not,” I started looking for my shirt and gave up, pulling his discarded t-shirt on instead.

“Piper that’s not fair,” he reached for me, but I spun away, standing to find my wrinkled shirt where I’d been sitting.

I snatched it up and started toward the door. Stopping a few steps from it to turn and face him. I wasn’t surprised to see he’d stood and taken a few steps after me.

“I just want to know when it’s going to stop Fisher,” I shrugged my shoulders dejectedly, “First we couldn’t be together because of Riley and now we can’t have sex because of him? I’m just really curious about when you’re going to stop using him as an excuse, as a crutch.” I sighed, “You know I have baggage too, I have a history, but I don’t hold it against you. I don’t fling it toward you to keep you at arm’s length. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I-” he let the rest of his sentence die, maybe realizing he had no real excuse for his actions.

“I’m not mad Fisher. I’m just sad you’re doing this,” I took a step closer to him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Congratulations. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whispered into his ear before turning back to the door and walking across the hall.

Later that night I rolled over, punching my pillow again. The only way to describe my mood was painfully sexually frustrated.

I wasn’t some crazy sex fiend. I’d only been with one man and we’d been married. I just wanted to be with Fisher in that way. We’d only been officially dating for two weeks, but the three months I’d known him felt like an extended foreplay, making me ache with need for him on a daily basis.

I couldn’t believe he’d denied me and I couldn’t believe he’d used Riley as an excuse. I punched my pillow again, rolling onto my back with a huff. My mind wandered to the last time I’d been so blatantly refused. It was right before I learned Sam was cheating on me. I’d planned a special dinner, celebrating six months of marriage, complete with candles and sexy lingerie my best friend at the time helped me pick out. I’d met him at the front door only wearing heels and my little purple nightie, the translucent fabric hugging my body, and he’d grunted at me. He literally grunted, a sound somewhere between disgust and indifference, and went to bed. Fisher’s rejection wasn’t nearly as insensitive, but it hurt the same; maybe even a little bit more.

I groaned, throwing my pillow toward my bedroom door.

“Still mad I see,” Fisher’s voice cut through the dark as I watched him step just out of the line of fire.

“I was never mad,” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide both the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra and the fact that I was still wearing his t-shirt. It was dark in my room, but I didn’t want to take a chance on the moonlight streaming through my window and the possibility Fisher may be able to see more than the outlines I could make out.

“I know,” he nudged me over a little and sat on the edge of my bed, “you’re hurt. Which is worse,” he ran a hand through the back of his hair, tugging a little at the ends, “You’re kind of cute when you’re mad,” he reached out and cupped my cheek in his hand, “when you’re hurt it’s just pure sadness and I don’t ever want to be the one who puts you through that.”

“So don’t,” I shrugged, swiping his hand from my face.

“I’m not great at explaining myself,” he dug his hands into his hair again, “I say things and they hurt you, but it’s not how I mean them,” I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined they were imploring me to understand. I sat up, pulling his hands from his hair and into my lap, willing him to go on. “Before, I didn’t mean I didn’t want you. I want you so bad I don’t know how I stop myself from going after you in public sometimes. I didn’t mean I can’t have sex because of Riley either,” he turned to me fully even though I was pretty sure he couldn’t see the details of my face. “I meant I can’t have more kids right now. I just can’t. It’s hard working three jobs and with everything going on with the band and I don’t get to spend enough time with Riley. I can’t have that time cut in half,” he started to lift his hands to his hair again, but stopped, interlacing our fingers instead. “I didn’t want to assume anything when we made things official between us, so I hadn’t gotten around to buying condoms and I can’t just risk it. That’s exactly how I became a father.”

I laughed a little, “was that all?”

“Yeah,” he sounded affronted.

“I’m on birth control,” I stated. I had been since Sam and I got married. I’d had to sneak around to get it when I lived in Meadow Views because birth control meant I wasn’t trying to get pregnant which was akin to confessing I was a slut who didn’t want to be caught with a child of sin in that town. Really, I hadn’t wanted to have a baby until Sam and I were more settled into our married life. I’d mentioned the option to him and he’d shrugged it off, so I made the decision to postpone our family’s expansion on my own. Dr. Schultz had kindly renewed my prescription when I moved to Dunesville, long before I started dating Fisher, no questions asked.

“Would you be offended if I said that’s not good enough?” I felt Fisher tense in anticipation of my answer. When I didn’t instantly reply he explained, “I just need to feel in control of this, I need to be sure we’re being safe. For myself.”

“Okay,” I smiled even though I knew he couldn’t see it, “That makes sense.”

He leaned forward to kiss me, his accuracy confirming my suspicion that he could see me better in the dark than I could see him.

Fisher traced his fingers down my back with nimble efficiency that could only belong to a musician. He paused on my shoulder blade, creating circled patterns. My first coherent thought of the day was ‘
wow, I never knew shoulder blades could be sexy until this man
.’ 

“Good morning beautiful,” he answered in response to my appreciative mewl.

“It
is
a good morning isn’t it?” I whispered back, mimicking his work on my back with my own fingers on his chest.

“Every morning I wake up next to you is a good morning,” he smiled down at me. I didn’t point out the fact that it was almost afternoon. After the excitement of the day before and tossing for the better part of my night I’d slept in.

“That’s a great line,” I folded my hands across his chest, making a tent to rest my chin on, “but I still don’t believe you.”

“Yeah?” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, “I’m beginning to think you’re more of a hands-on learner.”

We smiled at each other for a few seconds.

“So I just might have to show you how special you are,” he rolled our bodies over, shifting so his bare chest blanketed my body without crushing me and lifted me by my waist, making our faces level, “I think this might work better than trying to tell you and being called a liar.”

“I can’t make any promises,” I laughed, a little breathless at the tingles his fingers left in their wake as he ran them up my thighs and skirted feather-light touches around the hem of his t-shirt where it fell across the top of my legs.

Fisher pressed his lips to my neck, sending electric current through my body. I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling lightly and eliciting a groan from him in response. His hands roamed up my sides to my face, holding me in place while he nipped and kissed my neck.

I let myself enjoy the simplicity of taking from his touch. My eyes closed tightly, relishing the smell and feel of him. He was all masculine energy and deliciousness and he was applying all of that delicious masculine energy to making me feel good. His hands slid down my body again, this time skimming my breasts and making me gasp.

“I want to see you,” he mumbled, pulling his t-shirt up my body and over my head, “I have to say,” he cocked his head to the side, “I liked the pink bra last night, but this is better,” he held himself up with one hand, while the other cupped my breast, his thumb running across my nipple casually.

I couldn’t help the way my breath came in pants, my heart thudding harder in my chest, a direct response to the electroshock therapy his fingers were administering to my body. I hadn’t been touched since Sam and even then he hadn’t taken his time. Sam preferred to squeeze my breasts, weigh them in his hands maybe, and move on. Fisher was all patience, fingers running over me as if he had all the time in the world.

A thought occurred to me, making me push myself off the mattress on my elbows, “Where’s Riley?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

“Bailey and Dustin took him for the day,” Fisher answered, giving me a gentle shove back to the bed, so he could continue kissing the spot directly between my breasts.