A Mess of Reason (17 page)

“Fuck you, Scout.” She gives me the double
bird along with an unflinching glare.

“Nope. I told you no fucking until you make
a few choices.” I took a swig of beer. “Speaking of fuck: this tub
is fucking hot. Do you need me in here so you can use me like that
blowup doll in there—what’s his name, Mr. Stud or Captain Pecker?
Otherwise I need to sit up on the edge to cool off, but don’t
worry, Tess…I’m not going anywhere. Wild horses couldn’t drag me
away from this show. I’m naked, by the way. You don’t mind seeing a
little skin, do you?”

“Go ahead. I’ll make my own fun.”

She’s all heart of gold, brain of
naughty.

She sticks her tongue out at me in a classic
five-year-old move. It’s happens to be really damn cute on her, of
course, but then, everything is. I scoot myself up and out of the
tub after brushing the snow off the edge. My legs dangle in the
water as the jet massages my feet. Tess moves into me like a cat in
heat. She opens my legs and settles herself right in front of me.
My soft cock sits against my thigh, though I’m pretty sure it won’t
be soft for long since I’m watching her press her hips into the
jet. Have I told you how impossible she is? Thank fuck she has her
shirt on because if she was naked doing this, I might toss my own
rules out the door. Not the first time I’ve considered it tonight.
Her hands are on my thighs, and I don’t move them because she
already needs me here as a brace. It’s sinister watching her get
off, watching her buck her hips against that jet. Listening to her
moan. Every part of me wishing I were that jet.

“Scout…fuck…”

She’s almost there. So am I. My cock is hard
and her hands are griping my thighs, moving right toward it. I
should stop her, but I don’t. I let her go…I let her hands wander.
If she thinks anything is going to come of it, she’s delusional.
I’ve already spelled it out. But I certainly won’t stop her from
touching it. It deserves a little hand-holding, a few strokes. And
there it is, she has it in her hands. Both hands, in fact, gripping
it as if it’s holding her up.

“Tess, come on…danger, danger. Nothing’s
gonna come of this, baby.” Fuck, does it feel good. Fuck, she’s
wrecking it, sliding her wet hands all over it, dragging saliva
from her mouth onto it…and then she does it. She has no scruples,
none at all. I’m in her mouth and I know exactly what she’s doing,
and exactly what I’m doing—and oh God is it amazing—and it has to
stop. Now. Or I will—with my fucking gorgeous girl—be ruined more
than I feel I already am.

“No. Tess. You know how this works. You
don’t get to have it all ways; you don’t get both of us. You don’t
get to do this to me.” I push her face off of my cock, and doing it
is just fucking painful.

“I want it… Fuck, Tess, you know I want
it…but not like this, not with you walking down the aisle into his
arms. At this time next week, you’ll be a married woman, love.
Married to another man. So you see, baby, you don’t get my cock in
your mouth; you don’t get my hot come pumping down your throat. But
you can get yourself off, and I’ll keep watching from here.”

The look in her eyes is priceless. She’s
pissed, turned on, and about to come. I just watch on the sideline
with my hard-on aching like a son of a bitch.

“Fuck off,” she says as she keeps going. I
gotta give it to her, this side of her is hot. She truly, truly
wants me but I’m not giving in, because she still won’t talk about
it. I keep bringing it up, I keep tempting, taunting, teasing. But
nothin’.

“Fine. That’ll do. I can fuck off. You want
me to leave? Or you want me to watch?”

“Scout…oh fuck…stay…Scout…please.”

Both of her hands grip my thighs, If she
touches my cock, though, I’ll get up and go back into the house. I
can’t take much more of her want without my own resolve weakening.
She’s wearing me down inch by inch. She has to know it. But
hopefully I’m wearing her down too.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TESS

I don’t know where to go from here. I keep
wanting more of him and he gives in to me tiny little bits at a
time…but never all the way. Not ever. He keeps stopping and
starting, and every time I think we’re moving into a new place, he
ends it before I have the chance to claim him in the way I want
him. All of him.

I could walk away from Creed tonight.
Problem is, how much of Scout will I get if I do? Let’s face it,
there are two elephants. Creed and the fact that Scout wants all of
me. It’s quite simply put: impossible. It’s a circle. I can’t give
all of me…so he won’t give all of him. We’re chasing each other’s
tails. I can’t be sure he’d marry me if I did give him all of me.
To give in…no, no, no—it’s too raw, too naked. Too ugly. The risk,
too great. Once he sees me like that, he may never want me again.
Repulsive
doesn’t begin to describe the way I look
underneath.

“Scout…I’m coming…oh God…coming…please…” I
grip his thighs and he holds my face in his hands as I look at him
while I come on the jet, in the hot tub, between his legs. The look
in his eyes, filled with desire, is the final push that took me
right over the top.

I don’t know how he does it, how he’s able
to resist what’s going on between us. The magnetism, the ache, the
longing. He never looked away, not once. But he kissed my forehead
and keep his lips on it the whole time I was moaning out his name
in my delirium. I could have five more orgasms because yes, I’m
that charged right now. When I finish I lay my head down between
his thighs, his massive hands massage my shoulders, and he places
tiny kisses on my head and my face as he bends over me. It’s about
the sweetest thing ever. He’s having a post-sex cuddle and the poor
guy never even got to blow his wad.

Scout stands and lifts me out of the water,
then in one big step has us out of the hot tub. He takes us into
the house, back to my bedroom. He lays me on top of the bed, then
rifles through my clothes, grabbing me a new T-shirt, a dry bra,
and panties. Then he starts to leave.

“Will you come back…in a little bit?” I know
I sound desperate; I know it’s okay for him.

“Of course I will. You want another
beer?”

“Yeah, please. Just give me a few minutes,
okay? And, um…I really kind of like that you’re walking around my
cabin naked. Can you please come back naked?”

“Anything for you, my princess.” He shoots
me an irresistibly devastating grin, then walks out and closes the
door. Oh, and that view.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

SCOUT

I climb into bed with her. She has on her
dry T-shirt and dark purple, very sexy, very tiny panties that I
catch a peek of when she opens the covers for me to climb in. The
room is lit only with candles that she’s managed to place on nearly
every surface. It feels more like a honeymoon suite than two
friends cuddling with a couple of beers. She’s leaning against the
headboard, mostly horizontal. I sit with my back against it and
move her body onto my lap.

“You’re beautiful, you know that,.” I say.
“And I love you. Here’s the thing, Tessie girl: I don’t just love
you. I’m completely, mind-bendingly in love with you. This—what’s
going with us this weekend— might just be one of the hardest things
I’ve ever done. And I realize saying that to you, my sweet girl,
with all that you’ve endured, might sound ridiculous. Because I
can’t imagine the pain you’ve gone through, nor can I imagine the
pain you are still holding on to. But I know it must be massive,
bigger than the both of us. I genuinely want to know why you can’t
make the choices because it sure as hell looks like you’re craving
something you can’t have. And maybe, Tess, I won’t understand your
decisions…but then again, maybe I will. Maybe you can tell me, and
maybe I can help you decide. But I won’t decide for you because I
love you too much to do that, sweetheart.”

She lifts her head and looks up to my eyes.
Hers are filled with glassy tears as her lips quiver while she
slides her arms around my waist.

“I’m trying,” she says, then bites her lip
and glances away. Her face looks uneasy and she seems fragile in my
arms. I know she’s struggling with uncertainty—we both are. I’ve
made all the moves I can. It’s really up to her now to move us in
whatever direction she chooses.

“Are you?” I know I sound frustrated, and it
makes my stomach churn to think of how it might make her feel, but
talking is what we need now, more than anything.

“Trying…can’t you tell…how hard?” Her voice
sounds puzzled and it gnaws at my mind. Her mouth is crumpled in
pain, her heavy fringe of wet eyelashes barely able to stay open
with the flood of tears seemingly blinding her.

“I think you’re trying to throw yourself at
me in all the wrong ways. It’s not that I don’t want you in all
those ways—I do. More than you can understand. But I need you to
throw other things my way. Answers, and you know exactly what I
mean…don’t you?”

She chokes back a cry. The raw emotion in
her face terrifies me. I feel her hands opening and closing into
fists as though she’s thinking things through. She steers her eyes
up to mine and her face wears a look of shame, a heartbreaking,
gut-wrenching look. One that stabs me everywhere inside. She looks
defeated, stuck, and horrified. For the life me, I can’t imagine
what must be going through her head.

I set down my beer, and I pull her up to a
sitting position on my lap. She moves herself into a straddle over
my thighs. Big tears river down her face while she takes both of my
hands to her mouth. She kisses them…kisses my fingers, my knuckles,
my palms. Then she takes them and slides them up under her shirt
and places both of them on top of her bra. Her swallows are intense
and loud; her breathing, shallow and jagged. Her lips are shaking
as she tries to form a small olive branch of a smile. I feel tears
prick in my eyes because what she’s doing—this self-sacrificing
gift—is huge and beautiful and I know how very scared she is in
this moment. She studies my face, looking for me to cringe or
remove my hands, but I love her with my eyes, my expression, and my
hands, but I especially love her with my heart and my soul.

“You see, I love…you too, Scout. I’ve…I
have…I have always loved…only you. I’ve always…only…ever wanted
you.” She’s stuttering, barely getting words out…but they come
little by little. Each one a promise. A story about to unfold
between us. She’s trying. Trying so damn hard. I move my hands
slowly as I nod my head. It’s as though I’m touching the wires on a
bomb and if I make the wrong move, touch the wrong wire, everything
will explode and I may not ever, ever get a chance again to find
her.

“I know baby girl, I know.”

“I’m…this is…you know…this is….”

“I know this is hard for you. I know, Tess.
It’s just me and it’s just you and I will only ever love you, okay?
I won’t hurt you; I won’t take anything away from you. I will only
give to you…only love. Do you want me to kiss you? Please trust me.
You can trust me, Tess.”

“Just touch me. I just…I need to know.”

She buries her face in my shoulder, and a
deep, long breath comes out as though she’s resigned to try.

“What, baby? What do you need to know?”

“I need to know if I can…. um…if I can let
you do this. I’ve never…”

“You’re already letting me. So brave…so
beautiful.”

I want this part of her that she won’t
release. The part of her that’s anchored so deeply inside of her
that she can’t see around it. The part that will make her dig deep
and find a new form of respect and love for our relationship.

Her fingers are at her mouth as though she’s
trying to still her quivering lips. Her face is turned away from
mine. She wants to look at me, I know, because her eyes come to me,
then dart away, threaded with humiliation.

“It’s okay, Tess. You’re so beautiful…you
feel amazing.”

“I want you to…I need you to…take…you have
to do it for me…make me do it.”

“What do you want me to do, sweetheart?
Tess, can you look at me? Can you look at my eyes and trust me…and
tell me what you want me to do?”

Her eyes are closed; she looks miserable.
Too emotion-filled to speak. But the truth wants to persist, wants
to resolve our questions. I’ve not moved my hands but an inch and
really it’s only the lace of her bra that I’ve touched. Her breasts
are small, and the padding under the lace is thick-ish, but not so
thick that I don’t feel a very hard nipple on her right side. Her
left side feels flatter, but I touch her exactly on her areola, if
there is even one there. Her heart is beating wildly. I talk
slowly, calmly, and soothingly to her.

“Tess, tell me what you want.”

“Uh huh.” She looks at me, then just as
quickly drops her eye lashes down as if she’s hiding behind
them.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s all okay. Take your
time.”

“Please, Scout…take off my…take off my bra.”
She talks to me in a broken whisper. The space between us sacred as
she moves through a crossroad. And though there’s tortured
disbelief on her face, I feel like the luckiest man on earth that
I’m the one she’s chosen to do this with. A rite of passage for us
if ever there was one.

“Of course, anything you want,
Tess…anything. We have all night. You can tell me to stop if
something isn’t right. We can do this anyway you like.”

I slide my hands slowly to her back, mostly
keeping my palms on her bra. Her body is so small and my hands are
so big that her skin is touching the edges of my fingers. Her flesh
is bumpy and textural, and her sharp breaths nearly startle me as I
make my way to the clasps on her bra.

“Wait…I don’t know if I can…” she says as
she grabs both of my arms with a look of sheer panic on her
face.

“It’s okay, Tess. I can stop. Do you want me
to?”