Chapter 17
How could she ever have thought that Gleason was a good kisser?
Petula chuckled to herself.
Julian had debunked that myth in mere seconds.
And he wasn’t even using his hands or his body to entice her.
By the touch of his lips alone, he was blowing her mind.
Julian was so…much.
Petula felt as if she could drown in the feel of him, and never regret dipping her toes into those turbulent seas, and… Just the fact that she was making a water metaphor in her brain, told her she was in over her head, but she was loving every minute of it.
The man tasted like mint, and coffee, and pure goodness.
Petula knew, in that very moment, that she’d never be able to get enough of him.
And speaking of enough…
She wished Julian would take off the brakes and touch her. Really touch her.
Maybe if she nudged him along…
She’d been known to be sneaky a time or two.
Continuing their mouth-connection in order not to spook him, Petula reached out for Julian’s upper arms and using him as leverage, slid easily onto his lap, daring to straddle him.
Slowly, she slid her splayed digits down his biceps, then over his forearms until her hands finally met his. Taking his wrists in a firm grasp, she lifted them so his palms turned inward, and placed them on the sides of her breasts.
She waited.
Julian went still. His tongue ceased its movement in her mouth, then retreated back into his own cavity like a scared snail. His lips stopped moving over hers. If it were possible, she’d say his beating heart actually stuttered.
While her viscera were going nuts at the warmth of the connection, the more stable part of her mind was questioning her actions.
Had she blown it? Was Julian okay? Was this something he didn’t want? Had she overstepped boundaries in her enthusiasm to see what else he could make her feel?
She wrenched her mouth away, reluctantly.
She had to ask.
“Are you alright, Julian?” she managed, her voice emerging shakily as she leaned in and reflexively placed her forehead against his.
He sucked in air.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” he returned, not moving his hands away.
That had to be a good sign, right?
“Why did you…?” He closed his eyes as if he were in pain.
Clearly, he wasn’t going to finish his question.
Dammit. She owed him an answer.
“Because I wanted to find out if it feels good,” she told him with as much sincerity as she could inject into her voice.
She drew her head back to meet his eyes.
“It was only something I felt like I had to do before. You know, hook up with a man. But this feels different. I trust you, Julian. I want it to be you who touches me. I need to know if I’m… defective.”
He moaned and shook his head. “You’re not defective, Petula. Not in any way. I promise.” Tentatively, his hands began making small, comforting circles.
Finally.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper.
Oh, yes. It felt good. Really good. But the frustrating man was nowhere near the peaks that were all of a sudden standing up, taking notice, and speed-dialing her lady parts down below.
Yikes. How had she never known her nipples had a direct connection to her nether regions?
Petula’s breathing sped up.
“Julian,” she rasped as he proceeded to carefully caress the sides of her breasts.
“Mmm?” he mumbled.
His eyes were closed as if he were memorizing her contours.
“I…” She couldn’t back down now. “Touch me…more, please.”
And with that declaration, Petula suddenly ran out of bravery. She hoped beyond hope that Julian would take control, now that she’d lost her nerve
Julian removed his hands and Petula wanted to cry out.
What—?
His arms came around her immediately, hard and firm.
Ohhh.
Petula found herself surrounded by Julian’s strength. Her aching nipples were crushed against his muscular chest.
Yes. This is what she’d wanted. And she didn’t feel detached from it, at all. There’d be no reciting zip codes in her head while Julian was showering her with this kind of attention.
In a frenzy, their mouths met again, and this time their dance was more intense, more frantic.
Their tongues tangoed and their lips synched up in an energetic brega-funk, while her hands dared to explore Julian’s shoulders, his neck, and the fine hairs at the back of his head which she felt the need to tug, and did.
That action seemed to inflame him even higher, as his palms slid down and cupped her ass, pulling her in so that her hot core meshed with the delicious hardness that had risen between them.
“Hey Pet. I’m wondering—”
Shit.
Her brother’s voice broke through Petula’s haze, and her head snapped up.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” he rumbled gruffly. “I didn’t…”
His voice tightened as—once his shock was gone—he put his protector-sibling hat back on. “Are you okay with this, Petti?”
Her face turned what she knew was crimson, but she turned toward him and grinned.
“Do I look like I’m under any pressure here? Does it seem like I’m being coerced?” she teased.
“Uh, no.” He did an about face and backed down. “I guess, it, um... Fine, then. Carry on.” He started to leave.
“Wait,” Petula told him, giggles bubbling to the surface. If anyone told her that she’d so easily have pushed the crappy stuff that was happening to a back burner because of a kiss, she would have labeled them crazy. But now…
Things were looking up.
Petula laughed, and Julian grunted comically beneath her. It was all pretty funny.
It wasn’t like her older brother to get flustered, and it was kind of nice seeing his always-in-control facade take a hit. Still, she loved him dearly, so…
“Don’t worry, Stat. We’re through, here,” she said reluctantly, unwinding herself from Julian and bringing her feet to the floor. It wasn’t a graceful dismount, by any means, but she blamed her awkwardness on lack of experience.
“I guess you want an update on whether or not I’ve told Julian everything,” she questioned.
“Uh, huh. It’s why I came in,” he clipped. “That, and to let you know that food is ready.”
“Okay, then,” she soothed. “Let’s just say that Julian is in possession of all the pertinent facts.
” She swallowed any residual distaste. “Did you fill the crew in on the need-to-know, particulars?” she asked, trying not to grimace.
A lot of that stuff was sensitive, and Petula, knowing that more ears were privy to what had happened in her young life, found it a little tough to swallow.
“Uh, yeah,” Statler told her, then without turning around, he added, “If you two need a little more time to…sort things out…”
Again, with the cute hesitancy.
Damn, she adored her brother.
“No, Stat. We’re fine. I’m sure Julian and I can pick this up another time.”
She hoped like hell that was true.
Julian finally spoke up, addressing Statler. “Are you going to drag me out now and have me drawn and quartered? You and your crew?”
His choked inquiry was hilarious.
He’d also hunched forward, probably in an attempt to hide his erection.
Petula, however, was aware that the large bulge was still very much there.
She felt a surge of pride. She’d done that to Julian, and she didn’t think he was someone whose brain was normally or easily overridden by bodily urges.
Statler glowered. “The only reason we’d kill you, is if you make Petula unhappy,” he stated. “And from the look on her face right now, I’d say you’re clear.”
Petula laughed again, then misquoted to ease the tension in the room. “You know what they say, Stat. Happy sister, happy brother.”
Statler’s brows drew together. “That’s not—”
“I know, Stat. I know,” she snickered. “I just want you two to get along.”
She walked forward and looped her arm through her brother’s, tugging him toward the door and out into the hallway. “Let’s head into the living room and…give Julian a moment.”
He could probably use it.
Petula brightened even further as they walked, remembering what she’d wanted to say when she’d first arrived home from work, before she’d been hit with the unexpected shit-stick of her potential stalker.
“Because I was dropped right into your version of current events when I got home, I haven’t told you my good news, yet.”
“Good news?” Stat asked, stopping before they exited the hall.
“Yeah. I was finally green-lighted at work for the new route I’ve been wanting for the last three years.” Petula couldn’t hold in her joy.
She’d actually been thinking the worst earlier today, before going into her yearly review.
She and her new supervisor—who’d only been on the job for a couple months—hadn’t exactly been seeing eye to eye.
Their personalities simply didn’t mesh. But because Petula was part of the union, the woman couldn’t discipline her without documented cause, nor could she withhold a raise without one hell of a good reason, so Petula had been fairly confident the interview would only be contentious because of their clashing personalities.
Still, her boss had been defining and redefining the parameters of Petula’s job for the short duration she’d been in charge, and despite recommendations from her last boss that her route change had been approved, the power-hungry bitch had kept Petula delivering in the same district, anyway.
Not that Petula didn’t like her familiar customers. She did. But she’d also been bored. Driving the same streets and seeing all the same faces had left her feeling as if she were in a rut. This delayed change of pace was more than welcome.
And the really good news? She got to keep the northernmost part of her current route, so she’d still be servicing Diver Downeast. It was simply a win/win.
She’d finally get to drive, every day, out of town and through the beauty of the northern woods, instead of being trapped inside the small burg she’d serviced for so long.
Statler made a noise that was part grunt, part growl.
“What?” she asked.
“This is going to make protecting you, more difficult,” he huffed.
“With your downtown route, there are always a lot of people around who would have their eyes on you, and could be tapped to intervene if there were trouble. Once you’re off into the forested part of the state, help will be much farther away. ”
Petula flinched. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I was just so excited that I’d finally gotten my request approved.”
Crap. Why did the good things in her life always seem to come with caveats? She wasn’t normally a person who painted things with a negative brush, even with all the shit that had happened to her in the past, but giving this a positive spin was now going to take some digging.
“I, umm…”
A lightbulb went off in her head.
“No, Stat. I think you’ve got it wrong.” Her confidence returned in a flash.
“In town, my stalker could easily blend in and be hiding behind any corner. I could get grabbed down an alley, or out the back door of any establishment at any time. Meaning, my protector-of-the-hour, waiting in a car and watching for me, might not even notice I’d been taken until it was too late.
” She regarded Statler with a tip of her head.
“Out in more rural areas, the chances of not being aware of a stalker would be much slimmer. Think about it. Don’t you see?
Long, empty back roads. Me in my van, and you or one of your guys behind me?
Nobody would be able to sneak up on foot or in a vehicle to surprise me, because they’d stick out like a sore thumb in the boonies. ”
Statler grumbled, but nodded. “You have a point. But I’m still not happy that you’re moving from a route—and people—you know like the back of your hand, to go places with which you’re not familiar.”
Petula gave him a playful punch in the arm. “Don’t worry. It won’t take me long to figure out my new territory and have it down pat.”
“New territory?” Julian questioned, coming up behind them.
Petula loved his warmth as he slid up behind her, but still, she sighed. “How about we wait until we get to the living room so I only have to explain this one more time.”
“That’s okay with me,” Julian confirmed.
He was looking put-together again. His brains were clearly back in their proper place.
“Good,” Petula said as he moved around her.
Before he could pass, she threaded her free elbow through his. Then with her two favorite men on her arms, she walked back to where Stat’s crew had set up food on the oversized coffee table.
“Thank God you’re back,” Dizzy whined. “These cretins wouldn’t let me start eating until you got out of your little…‘conference’.” He gave an irreverent grin, as if he knew what she and Julian had been up to.
Petula, now feeling a little exposed, unhooked herself from Julian and Stat. She turned quickly toward the kitchen so her ever-present blush wouldn’t be noted and dissected. “Well, I’m here now,” she assured him. “And I’m getting myself a beer. Anyone need another?”
“I do,” Hazard said from behind her.
“Me, too,” Blue’s voice rang out.
“Make it three,” Julian chimed in.
They were letting her off the hook.
Petula practically skipped to the kitchen where she rapidly soaked a paper towel in cold water and applied it to her hot cheeks. Hopefully her color would go down, and nobody would mention again what might or might not have happened in the back office.
Once calmer, she walked back to join everyone, handing out the drinks.
“I told them about your route change,” Statler informed her. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she assured him.
The crew had already known she’d yearned for the change, so they were ready with congratulations and back-slaps, which she accepted happily.
Julian, when she gave him his beer, simply smiled and clinked his bottle to hers, as a salute.
The subject thereafter as they ate, swiftly turned to shift-taking; setting up the who’s and when’s for her safety moving forward. Of course, since Maine was an open-carry state, they’d all be armed and taking their jobs seriously.
Julian got on the phone between bites, ostensibly calling a brother or brothers to enlist their help, as well.
Did Petula feel like a pain in the ass?
Yes.
But it also warmed her heart that so many people were ready to step up and come to her aid.
Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come down to it; the need for anyone to actually protect her. But if it did, she couldn’t ask for a better group to—as all the ex-military people in the room would say—have her six.