Chapter 11
Elijah
She let me escort her home. That night and every night since that’s she’s worked for the past three weeks.
On her nights off, we hang out. She reads more chapters of her book that’s stored impeccably in her wonderfully creative mind, we play Uno- she wins/cheats, and we watch cooking shows.
All night until I see the first yawn. Even her yawn face is beautiful.
It’s hard when I want so much more from her.
It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to sit on that couch and not touch her.
It’s even harder at the end of each too short night to simply kiss her on the forehead and leave.
Each night when I hear those locks engaging, I pray that the door will swing back open and she’ll drag me inside for a real kiss.
I’ll keep waiting though. I can wait. She’s worth it.
I hadn’t expected for my heart to ever truly beat again after.
...that day. With Vaughn, it feels like it might beat out of my chest and run to her just to feel the smoothness of her skin and hear the melody of her voice.
My phone still rings several times a day or vibrates with a text.
Answering or responding when I’m consumed by the bliss of just being with her are things I’m not capable of right now.
Heartache of the past and the obligations of the present are things I don’t want to face while I’m with her.
Vaughn is my escape from the devastating reality.
She hears it. She sees me silence it. Still, she doesn’t ask.
Tonight is a working night. I’m driving there now. Seeing her walk out of that bar and light up at the sight of me is the highlight of my day. Hell, it’s the highlight of my life. V takes all the ugly and the hurt and melts it into armor. She makes me stronger. I’m better when I’m with her.
There she is. She’s as good as mine. This can’t go any other way. I’m already in too deep.
“Eli.”
“V.”
Sometimes we don’t speak much. We just enjoy each other’s company. It isn’t awkward, and it isn’t lacking. It’s...perfect.
The ride to V’s apartment is never long enough.
I don’t go in on work nights, so that ride is all I have until morning.
I always come back, what she considers to be ‘ridiculously early’, and bring coffee.
I don’t want to keep her up so late that she sleeps through my knock, or what she calls the assault of her front door.
We dismount and quietly walk to her door. As usual, I stand outside the door waiting for her to go inside and engage the three locks that never seem like enough.
“My bike is getting serviced tomorrow.”
That’s it. That’s the end of her sentence.
“Okay....um in the morning?”
“No. I’m dropping it off at 4:30. I need you to pick me up and give me a ride to work.”
YESSSSSSSS!! FUCKING YESSSSSSSSSSS!!
“Sure. No problem. Pick you up after work then, too, I guess?”
She rolls the prettiest damned chocolate brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
“You were already going to pick me up anyway. I need you to take me to get my bike when it’s ready, though.”
She has friends. I know she does. She’s extremely close to the Tweedle Twins, but there are others, too.
We’ve talked about them. She has all of these other people in her life, but she wants me to do these favors for her.
How exactly does one keep their shit together when it seems that one’s life mission is nearing the landing pad?
Not a damn clue and honestly, I have very little interest in hiding things from this girl. ...well, hiding anything else anyway.
She pretends to be annoyed at my ever-widening grin as she shakes her beautiful head and again rolls those incredible eyes.
“See you tomorrow, V.”
As she’s shutting the door, “See you at the ass crack of dawn, Eli.”
V
Coming out.
Eli
Waiting......
V
You aren’t funny. Like ever.
Eli
I know. You snort like that because of a deviated septum and not because you’re struggling to breathe and choking on laughter.
V:
I’m still laughing at her terrifying threat when she emerges from the bar. Does she get more beautiful every time I’m away from her? She’s intoxicating.
She’s trying to stifle the smile she gets every time she sees me waiting here like a lovesick chump.
“Madam.”
“Monsieur.”
My chuckle stays low in my chest, warming me all over.
I get on the bike and wait for her to wrap her small arms around my waist. It’s a struggle to control my breathing in the window of anticipation.
The feel of her wrapped around me is exhilarating and now that I know the feeling, I want it all the time.
How do I orchestrate more moments with her on the back of my bike?
Can I tell her I’m afraid to ride alone?
I’ll have to fabricate some sort of recent trauma. It could work.
Is this addiction? Could be worse. Could be meth. At least it’s not meth.
I turn toward her to make sure that her helmet is secure and that her foot placement is safe while also trying to avert my gaze from how perfectly sinful she looks. It does something to me seeing her in that tiny skirt with her incredible legs straddling MY bike.
“You know, I have my own bike and I’m a fully grown adult woman.”
Huh? What does that even mean? My face must communicate my confusion because she elaborates.
“Each time I’ve ridden on your bike, you’ve checked my helmet straps and foot placement.”
“Ah. Suppose you would prefer I stop doing that.”
I didn’t mean to make her feel like a child. Hadn’t even realize I was doing it.
She’s silent for a moment.
“No.....I wouldn’t.” She flips down her face shield and scoots in closer to me. Conversation over? Loved that conversation.
“Besides...are you fully grown?”
Her face shield snaps back up. Expression indignant. “I’m very tall for my height, thank you very much!”
The laughter rumbles out of me, and I flick my blinker indicating a right turn until Vaughn leans forward to speak to me again.
“I don’t want to go home yet.”
Thank you, Jesus.
“Where to?”
“Do you know where the Onion Creek Club is?”
I turn back toward her. She can’t see the skepticism, but it’s there. I do know where Onion Creek is. It’s closed, though. It’s a country club. It’s been closed for hours.
“Yeeeeeah.”
“Good. Go there.”
Anything she wants. This won’t be my first time in jail.
“Give me a boost.”
We’re standing outside of a black iron fence that surrounds a closed and very off-limits outdoor pool. The fence is only about five feet tall but she’s wearing a skirt.
“A boost?”
“Yeah. A boost. Put your hands out and let me step in them.”
“Yeah. I’m familiar with the concept of a boost. Why do you need one? The pool’s closed. What’s the plan here?”
“I want to swim.”
She wants to swim. Oh man. The possibilities.
Surely, she isn’t going to swim in that outfit.
What’s under that outfit? Will I get to see it?
Or is this a skinny-dipping situation? I practically trip over myself to get in prime boosting position.
This definitely isn’t her first rodeo because she knows exactly where to put her feet and displays Olympian level skill when she vaults herself to the other side.
Eyeing her warily, I hop over the fence with ease and without assistance.
Vaughn immediately begins undressing. What do I do? Can I watch? Should I watch? I don’t want to derail all the work I’ve put in. Trust is the goal. Quickly, I turn away opting to allow her the privacy she doesn’t seem to care about.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah...I don’t know really. Giving you privacy?”
“Hmm. I’m good. It’s a bra and panties. It covers what my bathing suit covers.”
She sounds annoyed, and I turn to see that she is, in fact, annoyed.
Damn it. Fifty-fifty shot, and I did not nail it.
And hooooooooly mother of sex symbols. This girl.
Full breasts, small waist, wide hips, and thick, firm thighs.
No thigh gap. The thigh tattoo that I’ve always wanted to see more of extends all the way up, and I do mean all the way.
It reaches the crest of her hip. The fight to not bite my clenched fist is an indescribable struggle.
I need to squeeze my eyes shut to gather myself, but I don’t think the action would be well received.
“Sorry. So.....we’re swimming? We’re taking off our clothes and swimming...together....in there?”
There’s a look of disgust on her face. This is not going how I hoped this would go, and I don’t even know how I’m screwing this up so badly.
“I’m certainly not going to force you.”
And the problem is revealed. She thinks I don’t want to do this with her.
She may be a little touched in the head if she thinks there’s a man alive that doesn’t want to swim with her in those underthings.
Black lace bra, matching black lace panties.
This girl likes to look pretty. She likes to feel pretty.
I’ve inadvertently made her feel otherwise.
“If you think you can talk me out of this now that I’ve seen all of that,” I gesture to all of her “you’re sorely mistaken.” Her dark brows furrow slightly.
I pull my t-shirt over my head and lay it on a nearby lounger.
She watches every move intently. She doesn’t embarrass easily, and she isn’t shy.
Fucking love that. She’s still watching me as I unfasten my jeans and let them fall to the ground.
She watches them drop, and her eyes roam back up my body, taking it all in.
Her gaze catches on my right forearm. Then my left.
I’m covered in tattoos, and they all mean something, but these.
..the vines of roses that wrap around each arm.
Each rose signifying...please don’t ask.
Not yet. Finally, she meets my gaze. She’s confused.
She wants to ask....but she doesn’t. She doesn’t take a moment longer to ponder on it before she turns and walks back toward the pool.
The perfect globes of her round ass seem to perform a sensual dance as she walks.
I give in and bite the knuckles of my hand to keep from moaning out loud like a damn deviant.
She, of course, chooses this moment to turn and look at me, seeing that I’m very nearly eating my hand.
She smirks. She smirks and then, winks before executing a perfect swan dive into the pool.
She can dive. Of course, she can. She’s burn the world down hot, she rides a motorcycle, she’s the perfect combination of spicy and sweet, AND she dives. What have I gotten myself into?
After setting up my phone on a nearby table to get the newest playlist I made started.
The steps are my entry point into the pool.
Just before I’m waist deep in the water, When Doves Cry begins to croon through the small Bluetooth speaker I take everywhere.
Vaughn is on her back, semi-floating but, not quite.
“Can you float?”
“Better than you.”
“Can you teach me?”
Can you teach me? Is she trying to kill me? I want to teach this girl so many things. She’d need to be in this exact position for about half of them.
I clear my throat, hoping that the action can also clear my thoughts. It doesn’t. “Teach you to float? Yeah. Maybe. Tell you what, you stop cheating at Uno, and I’ll teach you everything I know. Deal?”
She makes a movement, and her hips sink further under the water. “Deal. Okay. What do I do?”
“So, you admit that you’ve been cheating. It’s extra Draw 4 cards, isn’t it.”
“No. It’s a deal because it’s easy to stop cheating at a game I haven’t been cheating at.”
My eyes search hers for the lie. There’s no way that she’s won more than thirty hands of Uno without taking a single loss. Right? Am I seriously debating Uno while I could have my hands on her creamy skin?
“Um....well, first, you’re too stiff. Relax your muscles.” She does and her arms and legs all come to the surface of the water. Now, she’s spread out in the water like a starfish. “Perfect.”
She smiles. It’s a rainbow smile. Just take me now, Lord, and I’ll die happy.
“My butt won’t float. How do I get all of me on top of the water?”
Did she do that on purpose? She has to know what her ass looks like.
As a matter of fact, I know she knows what her ass looks like.
I’ve seen how she dresses. She knows what all of her looks like in those short skirts, tight jeans, and tiny tops.
She’s definitely drawing my attention to her ass on purpose. .....I think.
“Tilt your head back and practice good posture.”
She moves in the water again and her ass sinks further.
“Like this?”
“No....hold on. I’ll show you.”
I walk over to her, placing one hand on the small of her back and the other high on the back of her thigh, just below the curve of her ass. If she’s bothered by my hand placement, she doesn’t show it, and she’s the kind to show it.
“Like this. Straighten out your spine. Lift your chin.” She’s maneuvering her body to follow each direction I give her. “There. Just like that.” She’s in position. Now is the time that I should move my hands.
Now.
Or now.
There’s still time.
Move them now.
Finally, my hands slowly drift away from her skin.
She doesn’t seem to notice how long my hands lingered on her body. She’s smiling. It’s that smile. The rainbow one. She’s so happy.
“I’m floating. I thought I couldn’t.” Her voice holds real joy.
I taught her how to do that. She’s this happy because of something I did. That shit feels GOOD.
“You’re doing it. You look great.”
“It feels like....like if I can just stay right here....I won’t need anything more than this, and everything will be okay.”
I’ve floated before, but I’ve never felt like that. I’m glad she does, though.
Without a word, I let my feet drift up from the floor of the pool and float beside her.
Suddenly, I feel like I won’t need anything more either, and maybe...it will all be okay.