Crave (14 page)
Authors: Violet Vaughn
The party goes on until late in the night. I’m the kind of hostess that cleans all night long. I wash dishes and platters and hand them to the owners as they go. By the time people leave, there isn’t much left to do. Blaine has finished gathering all the bottles and walks into the kitchen. I look around the kitchen and am satisfied. “We’re done. Thanks for all the help. I think people had a good time.”
“I’m sure of it. Your friend Tara’s quite a firecracker. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I did.” I have no doubt Tara is screaming right about now. That woman would have done Kaleb on the deck if he hadn’t reined her in. I smile thinking about it. I, too, have sex on my mind. I hope that’s a good thing.
I step toward Blaine with lust in my eyes. I drag my finger down his T-shirt. All the way down to the waistband of his jeans and leave it there. “Want to stay?” I put one finger behind the button and my thumb on it. He takes my hand away and puts his other arm around my waist. He leans down and kisses with passion. Oh God, this is good. He nibbles at my lips and moves down my neck. My legs get weak. He moves over to my shoulders.
Whispering in my ear he says, “Yes.”
I lead him to the bedroom. It’s dark, but moonlight allows us to see. It’s time for a little sex-ed with Casey. “I want to feel you naked.” I stand across from him and take off my shirt. Cotton rustles as he takes off his. I unbutton my jeans and wiggle out of them. They land on the floor with a soft thud and I step out. I’m in my bra and a pair of thong panties. My finger strokes the silky lace as I slide it across the waistband. “Recognize these?” I hear him chuckle.
My fingers reach for his chest and I run my hand slowly down. Goose bumps form on his skin. I get to his jeans and unbutton them. His stomach quivers as I slowly unzip. I slide the jeans off, leaving him in his boxers. When I stand up, I kiss him and press my hips against his. His hairy torso caresses mine, but I’m acutely aware he isn’t hard. I reach a hand into his boxers and hold him. He pulses. There we go. I stroke and he pulls away with a gasp and lets out a moan.
He takes my hand and leads me to the bed. He lies down and I climb to kneel over him. With a knee on either side of his chest, I remove my bra and drop it on the floor. “Touch me.” The moonlight shines on his face and he looks at me in awe. I watch as he cups my breasts. He squeezes. I take his index finger and flick it across my nipple a few times and it peaks. “Do that to me with your tongue.” I lower myself to his mouth. A shudder goes through me as he does what I ask. Heat smolders in my core.
I rise up and straddle him. Grinding slowly, I increase the pressure. He is flaccid. That’s okay. I’ll keep trying to find his magic button. The desire to have him in my mouth is strong. Back up on my knees, I reach for his waistband. I slide his boxers down and take them off, careful to drag my hair along him as I do. His musky scent intoxicates me. The bed creaks as I crawl up toward him. I begin to lean down to taste him. He clasps his hands on my head to stop me. I rise up. In a slow, gentle voice I say, “Tell me what to do. I’ll do it. Just tell me what you want.” And I would. Whatever this man needs from me, I’ll give it to him. Desire makes me tremble.
“I can’t. I can’t.” His voice sounds so desperate. He sits up and retrieves his boxers.
“Blaine? Why?”
“I… it’s just not working.”
“Talk to me. What makes it work?”
“I don’t know. I was ready when you touched me. But then I wasn’t. I can’t explain it.” He’s frustrated.
Tara’s voice speaks in my head. “
Rumor used to be he’s gay.”
“Blaine, do you feel desire when we kiss?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you feel heat, a twinge? Do you usually get hard when we kiss?”
“I…” He doesn’t want to answer. “Sometimes. Usually?” He pauses. “No,” he says in a soft voice.
“Are you? Might…?” I rake my fingers through my hair. There’s no good way to say this. “Are you gay?”
“What? Of course not!” He stands up and heavy footsteps move across the room. Turning back to me, his brow is furrowed. “Do you seriously think I would choose to be gay?” He steps into his boxers, and I hear the waistband snap on his body.
“Choose? What century are you living in? People don’t choose to be gay. Any more than people choose to be straight.” Now I’m a little pissed too.
“Yes. They do.” He sits in the chair with his head in his hands.
I walk over and get down on my knees in front of him. “Blaine?” Tears burn in my eyes. “Is it me?”
He lifts his head. “Oh, God, Casey, no. Don’t.” His hands are cold on my face. “I love you. Marry kind of love. I want you to be the mother of my children. It’s not you.” Tears glisten in his eyes.
“Then we need to figure out what it is because I can’t do this anymore.” I’m crying and don’t want to stop. I go over to the bed and sit on the edge. Moonbeams surround me as my pain and fear bleed.
After a few minutes, I’m done. Blaine is still in the chair. The plush carpet hugs my feet as I make my way over to him. His face is tear-stained. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Not unless you want to.”
“I don’t.”
I reach out my hand and he takes it. I lead him to the bed, and we both crawl in. He pulls me close as I turn away so we can snuggle the way we like to. After a few minutes he whispers, “Casey?”
“Yes?”
“I’m so sorry. We’ll figure this out. I promise. I love you. Please don’t give up on me.”
My heart breaks a little bit more. Tears fill my eyes. I whisper in a shaky voice, “I won’t.” I take his hand from under me and kiss the palm. Still holding it, I lay mine down so both our palms are up. The moonlight streams in from the window. It falls on our hands. They look dead.
Sunlight coaxes me awake. I open my eyes to it shining into the room much like the moon had. I listen to Blaine’s quiet snore. I ache for him. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m not giving up. It hurts to think he thought I would. I stroke his hair, and he opens his eyes. At first his eyes are full of joy, but pain encroaches. I want to take it away. My body slides under the warm covers and cuddle up to him. I stroke my finger against his morning stubble. “Hey. Do you really want to have babies with me?”
“Yes, I do.” He looks relieved.
“Can we have one boy and one girl?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“And can they have your beautiful blue eyes?”
“As much as I want to say yes to anything you want, no. One has to have your eyes. And your hair.” He twirls a strand of it. “I want a little girl with adorable curls just like yours.”
There’s so much love in his eyes my heart sings. I roll over on my back and hold his hand up and trace the lines in his palm with my finger. “Can we decorate our house with tons of tacky Christmas decorations during the holidays?”
“Yes.” He chuckles.
“Good, because I want a huge, blow-up Santa. And I want you out there on Thanksgiving weekend in your awful dad sweater putting it up. Okay?”
“Deal.” He leans up on his elbow and looks down at me. “Casey, God gave you to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” His eyes glisten and he whispers. “I love you.” His lips touch mine.
My body shivers as I slide out of bed. I grab his T-shirt and hold it up to my nose to inhale. Another shiver runs down my spine. His eyes dance, watching me. I slip it on over my head and his essence surrounds me. “Don’t move. Well, you can go pee, but you better be in this bed when I get back.” I give him a stern look with a twinkle in my eye.
“Got it.”
I put on the coffee and open the fridge. In the bottom drawer are ripe, red strawberries and whipped cream I’d saved for breakfast. On a tray I put the berries, cream, leftover cheese, French bread, and coffee. The coffee wafts to my nose as I carry it all to the bedroom.
I climb on the bed and set it down between us. I want everything to be okay again. As much as I’m tempted to feed him and lick whipped cream off his lips, I know this isn’t the time. Instead we tell stories from our childhood.
A summer breeze blows hair around my face. My sunroof is open, and I’m headed to a new housing development. It’s a bit off the beaten path, and the houses aren’t even done yet. I’m dying to call Gretchen. But I can’t. She’ll want to know about the sex piece, and I would never share what happened. It’s way too personal. I sense if I tell her we’re working on it she’ll scold me again. I just don’t want to go there.
Oh my God, he wants to marry me! The urge to scream it out to anyone who will listen overwhelms me. But I have to keep it my delicious little secret. It’s not exactly official. I pout, thinking I have nobody to share it with.
My assignment is to get location shots to go with the sketches the development company provides for the listings. I pull up to the first lot and turn off my car. No need to take the key out of the ignition; nobody will steal my car out here. I step out and take it all in. Evergreen trees surround me along with the scent of pine. I can hear the gentle tap-tap of a hammer. Work is being done a few lots down. I walk over to the framed house. I’ve seen the plans and can guess where the bay windows are going to go. Wow. The view of the Rockies is spectacular. I raise the camera and take a few shots. I move to take a different angle. I enjoy this job. Driving to places I would never visit on my own, this town is becoming my home. I take shots from all four walls of the house.
Instead of driving to each lot, I walk. The sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds, and it’s a great day for pictures. I have my polarized filter to keep the lighting from being too harsh if the clouds disappear. These pictures will make Mr. Jones happy. People love the cabin-in-the-evergreens shot and a shot of the spectacular view of the mountains complete with sun and a few clouds.
My footsteps are nearly silent as I glide down the dirt road. I repeat the series of pictures for the next lot. With a system now, this allows me to be lost in my thoughts. I imagine what it would be like to live here. How peaceful it would be to sit on a deck with coffee. The hum of a band saw tells me the next property is where the men are working.
As I turn the corner in the winding road, it reveals Jason’s truck. I haven’t seen him since the day I was running. My stomach flutters a bit. Plywood has been laid down in a plank to the entrance. Probably to aid with moving in heavy equipment. My footsteps tap out my approach. The saw hums and drowns out my entrance. Jason cuts a long board. He is shirtless and his muscles are taut. With jeans slung low, the edge of his boxer briefs peek out. My body reacts almost instantly. Heat simmers deep in my core. Damn my sex drive. A half-naked man is all it takes. I will it to stop.
I walk over to the bay window area to take a picture. Hammering sounds come from the roof; the others must be up there. It’s suddenly silent as the saw stops. I turn to Jason as he walks toward me. He lifts his safety glasses, leaving the eye area clean while the rest of his face is covered in grime, just like his goggle tan.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I’m taking shots for the listing. I work for Mr. Jones now.” He is close enough that his sweat tempts my nose. My body recognizes it and defies me. My fingers ache to touch him. I don’t.
He tilts his head at me. “Want to go for a little walk with me? I have something to show you.”
My body says,
Yes! Take me anywhere so long as you touch me.
My heart says,
I thought you were in love with Blaine?
My brain says
, What do you expect? You haven’t had sex in months. You’re lucky you haven’t attacked him.
My brain makes me want to laugh. “Sure.”
“This way.” He walks me toward the side of the house and down a set of unfinished stairs. Without a railing to hold, I’m a hesitant to follow. He stops and turns. “Hold my hand. I remember how you hate these.” I take it gratefully. The moment he touches me, warmth radiates to my heart.
He leads me to a path in the woods. When we enter the trees, the construction noise is muffled. The air is cooler. A deep, earthy smell penetrates me. We step down a steep incline and I hear it, the sound of trickling water. A small brook ahead, the water lazily makes its way down like the blood in my veins. Similar to a hidden message, when it’s revealed I gasp. There’s a circular area next to the brook. It must have been cleared once. We step inside. The tall trees have all bent over, creating a dome; the branches thin near the middle. Rays of sun stream in toward the center. It’s magical.
I whisper, “Oh, Jason.” Somehow the sound of a voice wouldn’t be right. I hold my camera in one hand, but the other is on my heart. It’s as if this place fills it with love. I look up at Jason in wonder. He smiles down at me, and a sunbeam behind him makes his hair glow. I’m so captivated by the magnificence tears spring to my eyes. “It’s so beautiful.”
I sink down to springy, soft moss and slide my hands across the cool, moist plant. Jason crouches down next to me. He whispers too, “I thought of you the moment I saw it. I can’t explain why, but I knew I had to bring you here.”
I pick up the camera and take a picture. The flash goes off and I stop. I look at Jason and shake my head. “It won’t work. Nothing can capture this.”
He takes my hand and puts it on his heart. “This is where we keep it.” I look at him and see the allure here in his eyes. His heart beats under my fingers, and his hand sends tiny waves of pleasure through me. I’m overcome with such peace I don’t want to move.
I take my hand off his chest and reach up to his face. He leans into it. This is my Jason. One who treasures small pieces of magic. I still love him. It’s a love all its own, one I can’t describe. A love that fills my heart beyond measure. I’m not sad to know this. It just is.
I stand and walk out of the circle. Jason follows. We don’t speak as we walk back up to the site. I leave the trees, and the puncture of a staple gun invades my thoughts.
“Thank you.” There are no words for what I feel, and I don’t want them. “I’m going to go.” I point toward the next lot. Instead of walking up the stairs, I opt to climb the steep bank beside the house. I continue through the rest of the properties, taking pictures and reveling in the silence. Winding back down the road to the development, I try to process what happened with Jason. I felt so content, and it makes no sense. I shouldn’t be in love with two men in different ways and at the same time. Should I? Am I accepting that I will always love Jason and it’s okay not to be with him? My love for Jason is spiked with sex and desire. I smile. I’ll bet that place shows up in a sex dream.