Chapter 13 – Sunshine/Kaitlyn
THIRTEEN
SUNSHINE/KAITLYN
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, even as I opened my bedroom window. I felt like a teenage girl doing something naughty, and if I knew Tag like I thought I knew Tag – that was the whole point.
It was close to midnight, just twenty minutes since I got the text from Tag.
Tag: I wanna play.
That was it, and for twenty minutes I waited for him to come knocking on the front door, lifting his hat to my mom like he wasn’t going to defile me as soon as we were alone.
But he didn’t come to my front door. Instead he threw pebbles at my bedroom window.
When I opened it, because there was no doubt I was going to, Tag was standing outside where I could see him, under the big bur oak tree, in the moonlight.
He pointed to the tree near my window. “It’s climbable,” he called up to me.
“I know it’s climbable,” I said. “It’s my tree. ”
“Then, what are you waiting for, darlin?”
I might have been worried about waking my mother, but she was on the other side of the house and had gone to bed before ten.
She was dead to the world at this point.
More likely was the fact that I was inherently a good girl.
I did not sneak out of the house. I did not leave the house through means other than the doors.
And maybe that was an experience missing from my teen years, one I’m sure my younger siblings all had.
So, this, sneaking out to fuck around with Tag? More than made up for it.
Barefoot, wearing Harmony’s sleep shorts and an old t-shirt I found in my dresser drawer, I was so turned on I couldn’t keep my body still.
I was not someone who had rocks thrown at her window in the middle of the night and was told to sneak out of the house. I was not someone who climbed down trees to meet someone for secret sex assignations.
But right now, all I wanted was for him to touch me. Tell me what to do. Teach me how to suck his cock just the way he liked. I wanted to listen to him get off. What kind of sound would he make? A grunt? A growl? What would he say to me?
Good girl.
The sheer excitement of the moment overrode any sense of caution I might have.
I tossed on Harmony’s boots, climbed out the window, and onto the branch that reached closest to the window.
Tag stood at the bottom of the tree, legs braced wide, hands on his hips, no doubt ready to catch me if I fell. With only a few feet left, I jumped, my knees absorbing the drop for a second, and then I was standing in front of him.
Grinning like a fool .
He was wearing his familiar dark denim jacket, jeans and a smirk.
“You didn’t take the time to put on a sweater,” he admonished me, as he took off his coat and put it over my shoulders.
“I didn’t think about it,” I admitted, pushing my arms through the sleeves that fell below my hands. The wind was blowing across the plains, and even though it was a relatively warm night, I could feel goose bumps break out on my legs.
The coat smelled like Tag. His deodorant or soap. When he wasn’t looking, I buried my nose in the collar, absorbing the smell into my cells.
“Follow me,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out towards the barn. We didn’t have horses, but that’s where Harmony used to keep all her injured or unloved animals, (smaller than a horse). The alpacas all stayed out in the open fenced in fields, so I knew they wouldn’t bother us.
“Why didn’t you just tell me to meet you on the porch?” I said. I had to jog to keep up with his long strides.
“That’s not sneaking out of your house, Sunshine. That’s walking out. This is more dangerous.”
Something about that word, dangerous, sent a thrill through me.
Especially, when I remembered what he was planning.
I wondered if he remembered the part about tying my hands behind my back.
Probably not. He’d just wanted to paint the picture in my head.
But maybe I would try and hold them that way.
Just to see if I could do it. If I could stop myself from reaching for him.
He opened the door to the barn, let me in first, and shut the door behind us. Immediately, the wind was cut off. The barn smelled of hay and dust and mulch for Mom’s garden. Good smells.
Tag pulled something out of his back pocket.
A tie. Black. He did remember .
“Turn around,” he told me, his voice pitched so low I felt it like a bass drum in my belly.
Immediately, I did what he asked. He pushed the sleeves of his coat up until he found my wrists, and then he did as promised and tied them together, but not too tightly. I probably could slip one wrist free if I wanted, but I had no desire to do that.
He spun me back so I faced him, and I gasped, looking at him. Tag was always stern. Always unreadable. But something about the way he looked at me right now, woke up something primitive in me. I took a half step back.
“You want to run?” he asked.
I took in a deep shuddery breath, imagining what he would do when he caught me
He stepped forward and I stepped back, a dance I’d never done, but somehow knew the steps too.
“Where are you gonna run, city girl?” he smirked, and I felt moisture pool between my legs. “There’s nowhere for you to go.”
He reached for the neck of my t-shirt and ripped it down the center. I swallowed a yelping scream and jumped back, tearing the shirt further until my naked breasts were exposed. My nipples pebbled under his gaze and in the cool night.
“Buttons moving forward, Sunshine, if you don’t want me to destroy all your clothes,” he said quietly, under his breath, like he was breaking character, and I nodded, loving every minute of the game.
“What do you have on under those shorts?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I breathed.
“You lying? ”
I shook my head, but either he didn’t believe me, or this was all part of the game. He ran his hand up the middle of my thigh, inside the shorts, until he was cupping my pussy.
“Good girl.”
His other hand wrapped around the back of my neck, and I realized he was pulling me in to kiss me. Instantly, I pulled away.
“What?” he asked, standing upright. Ready to stop if I said stop.
“I…I don’t think we should kiss. If we kiss…well, then it’s not just about sex.”
I wasn’t sure where the thought came from. I feel like it was a conversation Harmony and I might have had at some point? How kissing could make us vulnerable.
I only knew that I had to try and protect myself. If we started kissing and then having sex…or talking, then kissing and then having sex...things could get messy, and I had no interest in that. So, boundaries. Parameters. Safety measures.
He grunted and looked away from me like he didn’t like that answer. If he insisted, if he said I have to kiss you. Need to kiss you, I’d cave like a bad portfolio in a recession. If he said kiss me or we stop…well, the answer was easy.
But my gut said Tag was not that guy.
He’d asked me if I was good at giving blowjobs, but I had no idea. There was that lawyer I’d dated for a few months a year ago. He hadn’t complained, but he didn’t send me roses the next day, either.
He also didn’t make me feel this way.
I was getting turned on just thinking about it.
The silence stretched and I didn’t know what he was thinking. The shadows were deep in the barn, all the sounds muted and hushed .
I heard the opening snap of his shirt and my breath caught in my throat.
One by one, the snaps popped and he stripped off his chambray shirt. He was so big. Thick. His chest was wide and his stomach was not flat, but muscled. His chest hair narrowed to a line that disappeared in the waistband of his jeans.
He dropped the shirt to the ground in front of me.
“On your knees, Sunshine.”
Like a devout church goer, I immediately dropped to my knees. The shot of pain when they hit the compact dirt only added to the thrill of what we were doing.
I watched as his hands lifted to his belt buckle. He was slow. Deliberate. Putting on a show. Building my anticipation to a fever pitch. First the buckle, the sound of it clinking against his thigh. Then the button and zipper of his jeans. So loud over the heaviness of my breathing.
Without touching them, I could feel how hard my nipples were.
He reached inside his jeans and pushed his boxers down. His cock sprang out, big and hard and ready.
He lifted my chin with his rough fingers, forcing my eyes to meet his. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but I felt the heat of him. His thumb brushed across my lips like he was marking them as his territory.
“Open your mouth.”
I did.
He slipped his thumb inside. His finger. He touched my tongue, the inside of my cheek, the back of my throat, and I let him, never breaking eye contact.
Whatever you want, I thought. I will give you. Never in my life had I felt this way.
“Lick me,” he said .
I leaned forward, my tongue reaching out to find the heavy, meaty circumcised head of his cock.
He tasted warm and salty and like the best sex I’d never had. I slipped my mouth over the tip and he pulled back.
“No,” he said.
“What do you want?” I breathed, embarrassed I’d already messed this up.
“Just lick the head.”
I did as he asked, watching him the whole time, waiting to see if I was doing it the way he wanted.
“That’s it,” he finally murmured, stroking my hair. “Tease me with that tongue, baby girl. I want to be out of fucking control by the time I come down your throat.”
I moaned, squeezing my legs together, searching for relief.
“Yeah,” he growled. “That’s how I want you, too.”
He teased me and he teased himself. Pulling himself away from my mouth. Taking a few steps back so that he was out of reach. Cursing and fisting himself for a few pumps, while I couldn’t move or reach for him because my hands were still tied behind my back.
Then he’d get close enough again and I found myself seeking him out with my mouth. Taking him inside and sucking him. Whipping my tongue against the slit until I tasted the salt of what he could not hold back.