Sweet: (Intermix) (True Believers) (18 page)

So wearing sleep shorts and a cami but no bra, Riley shirtless in his boxer briefs, I tried to appreciate the now and not the later. We weren’t going to have sex, not yet, not tonight. That was understood between both of us. So I relaxed, letting the tension I usually felt as I raced toward penetration fade away.

“I love your mouth,” he murmured. “Your lips are perfect.” His hand was on my chin and we were lying sideways, looking into each other’s eyes.

The waterbed had the smallest of a rock to it, allowing us to move together, his fingers drawing my leg over his hip. It was still creepy to me that we slept on a giant fluid-filled sac, but in moments like this, I could appreciate the motion of the ocean. I sighed, enjoying the ease with which we fit together, lips teasing and melding, my fingers splaying over his hard chest.

“I love your body,” I told him sincerely. “You’re so nice and hard everywhere.” I brushed over his nipple and enjoyed the sharp intake of breath he gave. Ah, the power. “I just wish I wasn’t groping Satan right now.”

“Think of it more like there’s a little devil inside all of us.”

“I wish there was a little devil inside of me,” I told him, teasing my fingertips lower to the waistband of his boxers.

He gave a soft laugh, nuzzling into my neck. “That wouldn’t be little then.”

“Of course not.” But truthfully, I didn’t actually mind that we weren’t going there. This was intimate, close, allowing us the time to tease and talk, and I was learning that I could be more aware of my body and my arousal than I had ever realized.

As Riley kissed me and rocked me on to him, I gave soft moans and realized that I trusted him. That’s what was different. I trusted his words, his feelings, his touch. That was actually a bigger turn-on than any porn star move guys had pulled with me. It wasn’t kinky, bold, or worthy of a scandalous bucket list, but it was more real than anything else I’d ever experienced.

And an hour later I discovered that I could come to orgasm just from kissing, clothes on, with nothing but whispered words of encouragement and a complete understanding of every inch of my body.

“Oh, God,” I breathed into his mouth, blinking in shock and wonder. “Riley . . .”

“Mm,” was his response. His tongue slid across my bottom lip as we cuddled. “Night, Pita.”

He sent me to sleep like that every night, though each time our fingers moved further into new territories, brushing over every inch we could with clothes still intact, and his lips started to stray down my shirt. By night four I was rocking onto him in nothing but my panties, my breasts pressing into his chest, my body alive and zinging, my heart full of a feeling I had never experienced before.

The first time his tongue touched my nipple, the first slide of a finger down into my panties, I felt like I had discovered something entirely new, that the simplest of touches could be the most electric, the most satisfying, when desire was so heightened.

I stroked him with fingers that trembled from my own hot need, goose bumps on my skin in the darkness of the narrow room, wanting to give him in return what he was giving to me. When I started to peel down his boxers, he didn’t object. It was the first time I’d seen him bare to me, his erection thick and throbbing beneath my touch. It was too dark to really see what he looked like, but I was learning his body by exploring every line, every muscle, every hair, and I did the same now, taking my time, from top to bottom, feeling, stroking, learning.

“Does it get your stamp of approval?” he asked.

Even though he said it in a teasing voice, I knew that it was an important question. Guys compared. They needed to know that they measured up, literally and figuratively.

“It’s perfect,” I told him honestly. I kissed the tip of his penis and then retreated, having learned how to do that from him. “You’re perfect.” I covered his mouth with my own and tried to show him with my lips how amazing I thought he was and how I had never been happier in my entire life than I was with him.

He groaned, gripping my hips hard, bringing my body into grinding contact with his dick. “Jess?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you be okay with it if I fell in love with you?”

My heart squeezed and I paused, my mouth a hairbreadth from his, as I took in his words, as if I could breathe them into my mouth, my heart, my soul.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’d be very okay with it.”

It must have been the right answer, because without warning he flipped me onto my back and kissed down the front of me until suddenly he was kissing between my thighs and I was burying my head into the pillow as I cried out.

I wasn’t even naked, his mouth working me through cotton, yet I was more open to him than to any other guy I’d been with.

And I knew without any doubt that he was
the
guy.

Chapter Sixteen

Friday was my day off and I was having dinner on Riley’s lap. We were in the kitchen sharing a grilled cheese sandwich I had made, along with a pickle that I couldn’t resist doing suggestive things to.

“Seriously?” Tyler asked, eating a bowl of cereal. “You guys are making me throw me up in my mouth.”

“It’s payback, asshole,” Riley told him, shifting me on his legs so he could see his brother. “For a year I’ve been forced to watch you and Rory hang all over each other.”

“Six months,” I corrected him, kissing his temple. He was adorable when he was wrong. He was adorable when he was right. And I was as bad as every girl who’d come before me and fallen head over ass in love.

“Six months,” he repeated. “Either way, Tyler can suck it up.”

Tyler couldn’t really argue with that. But he did roll his eyes and say, “I’ll give you five bucks, Jess, if you sit in your own chair.”

Hell, yeah. “Deal.” I jumped off Riley’s lap and held my hand out.

“Fuck.” Tyler grumbled, but pulled out his wallet and gave me a five.

Riley laughed. “Dude, you should know better. This is
my
girlfriend, not yours. Rory isn’t about the angle, but Jess should count cards in Vegas. She’s a
play-uh
.”

“Thanks, baby,” I said, because he made it sound like a compliment. I dropped down into my own chair and tore off a piece of the sandwich and popped it in my mouth. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

“Movies?”

“Nothing scary.”

“Uh, hell, no, nothing scary. I won’t make that mistake twice. Having you crawl up my asshole has never been a particular fantasy of mine.”

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You ran into my room crying because you thought there was a demon in the house.”

“You’re exaggerating!” I said, laughing. “But only a little.” My phone lit up and the ringtone was “Gangnam Style.”

“Oh my God, whose ringtone is that?” Riley asked.

“It’s my brother’s. Because this song is almost as annoying as he is.”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No.” I hit Ignore. Why was my brother calling me? He never did. He knew I was supposed to be in West Virginia and out of cell range. I started to worry that maybe something had happened to my parents. That’s the only reason I could think of for him to call. “Maybe I should have answered,” I said, frowning.

“Did he leave a voice mail?”

“No.” Did anyone leave voice mails? But then my phone buzzed for a text. I opened it and my heart sank when I saw the picture he’d attached. “Shit.” I didn’t even have to read what he’d written to know it would be a threat, but I did anyway.

WV huh? Location says Cinci and your face says wasted. How much $ to keep quiet?

Yep. That was a threat. Technically blackmail. I stared at the picture that he had clearly lifted off of my Facebook page. Someone had posted it and I hadn’t been on my page in days so I hadn’t noticed. It was me dancing with the guy at the party at the Shit Shack. I had a beer in my hand and a goofy, drunk expression on my face. My cleavage was exploding, and his hand was lower on my hip than I remembered it being.

I was so busted.

“What’s the matter?”

“My brother has a picture of me at the party last weekend. He says he’ll tell my parents if I don’t pay him off.”

Riley’s jaw dropped. “Your
brother
is trying to extort money from you?”

“I told you, he hates me for no apparent reason.”

“How bad is the picture?” Tyler asked. “I mean, your parents have to know you party a bit at school, right?”

“No. They do not.” I pushed my phone over to him so he could see it. “They also think I’m in West Virginia building houses for the poor with a church mission group.”

Tyler choked on his cereal. “Are you shitting me?”

“No, I am not.” I felt sick. Like throw up sick.

Riley squeezed my knee. “Hey, it’s okay. What does your brother want, like fifty bucks? Just pay the little prick. Or let me talk to him.” There was a gleam in his eye that suggested he wanted to do more than talk.

“You think I should pay him?”

“Well, if you want him to keep quiet, it’s your best option. Though I would personally prefer to beat the piss out of him. What kind of a shit thing is that to do to your own sister?”

How much?
I typed to Paxton.

Two grand.

I laughed in disbelief. “He wants two thousand dollars!”

“What? Fuck him.” Riley waved his hand. “Tell him to suck my dick.”

You’re insane. I don’t have 2k
.

You have thirty minutes. You can transfer the $ to my acct or I’m going to mom.

That he said Mom instead of Dad was a good indication he was serious. Dad would be profoundly disappointed, but Mom would be pissed.

Why do you care what I do?

Though I already knew it was pointless to try to talk him out of it. Paxton had been looking for the big score, the way to topple me, for years, and he had found it. I had basically handed it to him via vodka cranberries.

Because you’re a bitch
.

Well, there you go. My brother thought I was a bitch so he was going to ruin my life. “This is bad. This is so bad. My parents are going to freak.” The grilled cheese sat like a lump in my gut and my mind raced, trying to anticipate the fallout.

“Obviously they’re going to be pissed you lied, but they can’t really punish you. I mean, you’re twenty years old.”

I shook my head. “Oh, they can punish me. They’ll cut me off.”

“Rory’s dad threatened to stop paying her tuition and he didn’t,” Tyler said. “He knew in the end hurting Rory’s future wasn’t worth it.”

But Rory’s father was different from mine and I knew that. Rory had stood up to her dad, and I had admired it when she’d done it. It couldn’t have been easy to tell him she was going to intentionally disobey him. But Rory also knew that at the end of the day, her dad had her back. It was just the two of them, and he loved her.

My father loved me. Sure. And he was a good man in so many ways, a good leader, with deep moral convictions. But those convictions would prevent him from indulging what he was consider the path of my moral destruction. My mother was just like Paxton—she was spiteful. Once she was angry, it took a lot to earn back her affection.

The combination of both of them upset with me was going to result in an order to come home or be cut off. I knew it.

Both of which made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

“Rory’s dad compromised because he didn’t want to lose her. Mine won’t. I know it.” I tried to give a shrug. “I guess it was going to be impossible not to get busted at some point. I can’t keep pretending to be the perfect daughter. Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t figured that out already.”

“Maybe they have,” Riley said, reaching over and pulling my hand into his. “They might know more than you realize.”

My phone rang again. This time it was “Material Girl” by Madonna. My mom’s ringtone, and my sense of irony on display. “Wow. Paxton moves faster than I thought. He must have been planning to tell the whole time.”

Resigned, heart thumping, hand shaking, I picked up the phone, wondering if I genuinely felt guilty that I lied, or if I was just sorry I’d been caught. “Hello?”

“If you’re going to mastermind that you’re off doing mission work, then you should have the good sense not to post pictures of you partying like a trashy whore on the Internet.”

How was that for a greeting? “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“You didn’t mean for me to find out at all. But I’m not discussing this with you on the phone.” Her voice was cold, her anger barely contained. She wasn’t yelling, but she wanted to be. It sounded like she was trying to not completely lose her shit on me.

I just waited, because there was going to be more. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

She took a breath and continued. “I don’t want to hear your insincere apologies. Tomorrow night is the fund-raiser. You will be there, and you will do your part to help this family. Then we will discuss your behavior.”

“Mom, I have to work tomorrow,” I protested. I didn’t want to go home. They might not let me leave again. I supposed my parents couldn’t lock me in the house, but they could use emotional manipulation.

“And I don’t give a damn,” she said. “Be at the house by five at the latest and I want zero arguments from you.”

Then she hung up on me. Probably to go throw something to let out all that simmering rage.

“That was fast,” Riley said.

“She said I have to come home tomorrow and go to a fund-raiser. Then we’ll discuss my behavior.”

“Are you going to?” he asked.

“I don’t have a ride.”

“I can take you if you want to go. Though maybe showing up with me isn’t going to help the situation. I don’t imagine I’m your dad’s idea of the right guy for his daughter.”

No, he wouldn’t be. But he was the only person who could give me a ride, and if the truth had to come out, then maybe I needed to be a little braver like Rory had been and own up to everything. I wasn’t ashamed of Riley. He was a good guy. I was completely happy with him, and I didn’t want to keep our relationship a secret.

The real question was, did I want to go? I definitely didn’t want to, but I knew I had to. I couldn’t hide from my parents or from my lie. I had to face them and be totally honest. Mature and responsible for my own actions.

“Unless my dad handpicked you, he won’t think any guy is right for me. But it would be awesome if you could take me. I could use the support.”

“If you wants you to go to a fund-raiser, maybe she’s not that pissed,” Tyler said, obviously trying to cheer me up.

But she was pissed, there was no doubt about it.

This was not going to be a fun weekend.

***

When I came out of the bathroom on Saturday dressed to go home, Riley blinked at me. “I’m sorry, I thought my girlfriend was in the bathroom. Who exactly are you?”

“Ha ha.” I was wearing a long floral maxi dress with a sweater over it, buttoned at the top so it pulled over my chest to cover the bare skin there. The only jewelry I had on was my cross necklace. My flats were yellow, like the flowers in the dress, and I had tied my hair up in a simple bun. No makeup. “I’m trying not to piss them off the second I walk in the door.”

“You look . . . pale.” Riley came over and kissed me on the forehead. “Like a watered-down version of you. I don’t like it.”

“Me either.” But I was trying to be respectful. Either that, or I was still being a wimp. “You ready to go?”

“Yep. Let’s do this. It’s going to be fine.” He stroked my cheek and smiled. “Who can resist forgiving a face like this?”

Even Riley’s optimism started to crack when we pulled up to my parents’ house though. “Holy shit,” he said. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yes.” It was a big redbrick monstrosity, with white pillars and a fountain out front. I had never actually thought it was pretty, though as a kid I’d love the fountain. But by the time I was in middle school, I found it pretentious and embarrassing. Even more so now, seeing it through Riley’s eyes.

“Apparently the God gig is a good one,” Riley said, parking the car. “I admit, I’m feeling a little intimidated.”

“Don’t. It’s just a house that the church paid for. I’ve always thought it was on the verge of tacky.” I took a deep breath and stared at its stillness. “But I know I was really lucky to have material things as a kid. I always got what I wanted, within reason.” Which was probably part of the reason I was so aimless. I’d never really had to work all that hard at anything to have a comfortable life.

Just smile, and say your prayers in public. That’s all that had been expected of me.

“Now I’m really amazed that you agreed to stay at my place. Damn.” Riley shook his head.

“You have a better sense of family in that house than there is in this one,” I told him sincerely. “I like being there, with you and the boys.” Even though I didn’t belong, not really, I felt like I did.

“You ready to do this?” he asked me, taking the key out of the ignition.

“I guess I have to be.” What I really wanted to do was run away and never face the disappointment that was going to be on my parents’ faces.

Riley walked behind me, his boots creating a steady rhythm that soothed me. I was actually really relieved he was with me. I didn’t think that I would have the courage to go inside if he hadn’t held my hand, squeezing it in reassurance. The house was hushed and quiet and I figured my dad was in the library, reading before the social night ahead. The main hallway was two stories high and had more columns, with a winding staircase. I led Riley past the stairs to the wooden double doors to the library. They were open, and my dad was exactly where I had expected, on the sofa already wearing a suit, book in hand.

He looked up and saw me and his rigid expression showed his displeasure. But then astonishment replaced that as he took in Riley’s hand in mine. I knew the picture Riley made to a man like my father. Riley was wearing a Doors T-shirt, the leather straps of his bracelets wrapping around below his tattoos. The fact that he was twenty-five years old was evident in his jaw, the sun crinkles around his eyes, and a glance showed that he looked tense, edgy. His adorable dimples were nowhere in sight.

“Jessica. Come in. Introduce me to your friend.”

Dad sounded polite, in control. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He sounded . . . remote. We went into the room and sat down on the opposite sofa from my father.

“Hi, Dad. This is Riley Mann.” I paused a heartbeat, then went for it. “My boyfriend.”

The manners evaporated. “Is this why you lied to us? Is this why you wanted to stay in Cincinnati for the summer, to be around some guy?”

Of course he would conclude that. I realized I was going to have a hard time convincing him otherwise. “No. Absolutely not. We weren’t even together yet.”

It was like I didn’t even speak. My father set his iced tea down carefully on the end table and eyed Riley. I didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed. He was a tall man, broad in the shoulders, graying at the temples. He was intimidating. I had always been a little afraid of him. Not because he’d ever hurt me in any way, but because he was imposing. As a little girl, he would always say he had God’s ear, that he was a shepherd leading God’s flock of sheep. Somehow I had decided that God’s ear was actually in my dad’s pocket, next to his wallet and the change that jangled when he put his hand in there and moved it around subconsciously. I had always been afraid it would fall out and I would see it, a torn-off celestial ear piece listening to all my words and thoughts like a big tattletaling megaphone to God.