Bring on the Rain (25 page)

When he finished, he met her eyes again
with runnels coming down his face. The erotic tension was tight.
Every rumble of thunder seemed to crank it up another notch. He
washed his face.

She had been watching, looking at his
sinewy throat, eyeing his stomach as he drank, and seeing the
sodden band sag lower, until Madeline wondered how they were
staying on. Snug yes, but worn and wet. Water washed over his baked
skin, sliding down the lean taut cheeks and brown hard
nipples.

She saw him gazing at her legs and
heard her own breathing, heard his when he finally got in the truck
and closed the door.

Windows were left open an inch or two,
Mitch’s eyes glued to hers as he took another drink to finish the
water off. The truck was like a cocoon, smelling of rain and earth,
man and leather, oranges now too. Completely closed off because of
the din outside and their breathing in the interior.

He finished, and dropped the empty
bottle behind the seat. He turned toward her then felt for a latch
and let the seat back. He reached out, cupping the back of her
head, leaning and bringing her to him at the same time. He kissed
her. It was open, scorching, salty, and wet. Madeline was straining
into him. He was dragging her closer, sliding his other hand to
help her turn to him, to feel her legs with his palm.

Breathing rapidly and excitedly,
Madeline knew sheets of water would obscure them even if everyone
had been in the house at the window, watching it come down.
However, they were carried away by the long rumbling thunder that
vibrated the truck, rain falling rapidly and driving with
it.

She breathed through her nose, her
inner thighs trembling with arousal. He’d felt her from calf to
thigh. His lips and tongue caressed her mouth in ways that
validated her own hunger.

Mitch adjusted her leg, pushing the
skirt up without breaking his kisses, and wedged his hand between
her thighs. He kneaded her through her lace panties.

She was making sounds, gasping,
moaning. Mitch bit her lip and kissed her jaw, her ear, going back
to her lips again and again. Reckless, yet so famished, so out of
control.

Madeline panted when he broke the kiss.
Her legs were over his, she leaned her head back gulping air, and
her eyes had to be fogged when she stared at him.

Breathing rapid, lids at half-mast,
Mitch reached high under the skirt to remove her panties. She
lifted her hips. He took them off, and her shoes, without looking
away. They landed somewhere in the floor.

It was raw, sexual, lust ridden, when
he positioned her for access. Bringing one ankle over his thigh
near the steering wheel, the other leg bent, so that her curls were
exposed. Madeline groaned, her head back, and resting against the
door.

He began rubbing between the moist
lips. Madeline whispered. She arched. She bore down when he
penetrated her. Muscles grabbing his slick, warm, finger, milking
it. Her thighs were shaking violently from the excruciating
pleasure of being touched inside.

He said something that couldn’t be
heard over the rain. Her eyes half open, like his own.

Madeline rode that touch. She probably
moved the whole damn truck, but she did it, biting her lips, her
vision fogged and eyes glassy.

Mitch leaned in and shoved up her top,
coming close, and latching on to her engorged nipple. His throat
making sounds of pleasure, he suckled and raked with his teeth on
the sensitized tip.

He employed his thumb on that hard mass
of nerves at the same time his finger sank deeper into her sex. She
came, and it hurt like flaming hell.

Madeline pushed at him and rolled
sideways as tears squeezed out of her eyes, muttering breathlessly,
“That...hurt.” Damn, those tense muscles had been unused for too
long.

Mitch didn’t let up. He apparently knew
that feeling. He took her hand, helped her up, and opened the truck
door. Barefoot and befuddled, blinded by rain, she was only coming
out of a daze when he lowered the tailgate and set her on it. Some
part of her mind knew the truck cab hid them as well as the
distance and rain.

But Madeline blinked, dripping wet,
hands on his shoulders, as he got close, between her legs and
kissed her, slanting his lips, mixing rain in with it.

The sky was dull gray, getting darker;
water ran off the hillside making everything muddy. They had their
own world going on. Mitch leaned her back. She lay on the bed
liner, uncaring what surface it was. He moved down, opened her
legs, and started kissing her sensitized flesh, delving between the
folds with his velvet tongue. Feral, ravenous, probing and sucking,
his hands held her hips to bring her closer. He devoured her and
did it with vibrated sounds of pleasure she could feel and hear
through the rain, and her own pulsating blood.

Head to the side, rain somewhat chilly
and thick upon her, Madeline felt everything, his shoulders, his
hands, and his arms. His hair caressing her as his head moved and
his lips suckling. Her heart thundered as sinuous fires extended
from the rasps of his tongue. On that last hungry suckling she came
again, then once more, the last one enveloping, leaving her legs
trembling, her lips parted, her eyes seeing colors.

Madeline wasn’t so sure her heart
didn’t stop for a split second.

Then Mitch was there, pulling her skirt
down, helping her sit on the tailgate. She was in a stupor, but she
saw the hardness pressing his wet zipper outward, his hard nipples,
and the sunken cheeks, the tension in him.

The rain was slacking.

Still aroused and fogged, Madeline
leaned over, pulled him close, and mumbled huskily close to his
ear, “Lay back.”

His strong arms held her, one hand
rubbing her back, he whispered even as he kissed her ear, “The
rain’s stopping.”

They held onto each other, close, snug,
and shaky. The rain eased with every gust of wind until it was mere
drizzle and they parted.

Mitch pulled away after a few soft
kisses, easy ones to try and slow the pace of their hearts. He
searched out her shoes, not her panties and brought them to her,
and a roll of toweling.

They dried their faces, smoothed back
hair, shared the water bottle; saw the other’s fingers
trembling.

In the background, water gurgled from
rain-carved streams, men laughed, a thump of a truck door slammed.
Darkness was falling. She dried her throat and arms, watched him
dry and rub his face hard. He handed her a comb. Madeline combed
her hair back.

Someone’s headlights flashed against
the tree trunks.

In the roar of the storm, speaking had
been impossible, in the erotic haze, unnecessary. Now, everything
was an intrusion. Awareness was awkwardly nerve jarring. They were
sitting in the truck when Coy’s headlights struck and lit the dark
cab. He pulled alongside. Madeline saw Brook lean up.

Coy was saying, “I’ll get cleaned up
and run her home, she said she’s a bunch of stuff to get
ready.”

Madeline nodded.

“
Mom? How’d you get wet?”
Brook was frowning.

Madeline couldn’t think of anything to
say.

However, Coy was speaking again, “Since
G.W. won’t get a car to you till Saturday, do you mind if we run to
the quick mart and pick up some of the food she’s supposed to
buy?”

“
No,” Madeline said,
reaching for her purse. She pulled out some money. “Mitch, reach
this over.” It was passed to Brook.

Coy said to Mitch, “You bringing
Madeline?”

“
Yeah.”

Brook cut in, “Mom, what about those
hot dogs? Can we get all that chili made?”

“
We’ll get it
done.”

“
We can go to the mall
Sunday if you get a car.”

Madeline was sensitive to the fact
Mitch was trying to calm himself and struggling.

“
Yeah, y’all be careful. Did
you put your list in your purse?”

“
Yeah, see you. Hope you
don't get a cold.”

Then they were gone. Other headlights
passed the truck. Other men stopped, spoke, and eased on down the
hill. Lastly, it was Jason’s work truck that lit their silhouettes
in the cab.

He eased up close, level with Mitch,
not speaking as his blue eyes moved over both of them, a slight
knowing grin on his face. He revved the engine, and was chuckling
as he left.

They were all gone.

Mitch slid down in the seat some,
wrists over the steering wheel. He rested his head back on the
seat. He must have counted to ten before he sat up, turned the key
and the headlights on. Then he fell a bit against the wheel,
resting his forehead on his hands.

Rolling his head to the side he husked,
“I’ve got to get you home, don't I?”

She slid over and made as if to slide
her hand inside his thigh.

Mitch groaned, closing his eyes and
reaching to cover it, holding against the damp Levi’s for a moment,
long enough to let her feel the heat and hardness of him through
the material. He sat up again.

Madeline felt him raise her hand;
squeeze it lightly before moving it aside. Mitch put the truck in
gear and they were swinging around, pulling out, back on the
highway.

She sat on her side, hearing the
katydids and frogs, feeling the wet, rain-scented wind on her face.
Her loins muscles were eased - ready to accept intercourse that
wasn’t going to happen…aware that he was hard, his sex abraded by
the wet cloth, and aware of her scent on his lips. The night wind
dried the rain on his hair and body, likely cooling skin, but
nothing else.

He pulled into the yard. Brook was
probably at Jude’s waiting for Coy to clean up. Who knew if she
would come back here before going to the mini mart? The truck was
idling, the headlights off, and night sounds pouring in amid the
plop of rain off of her porch roof.

Madeline looked at him, the side of his
face faintly lit by a distant street light. Mitch wasn’t going to
ask, she knew that. She opened the car door, got out then went to
the porch and tossed her bag on the wicker chair, took off her
shoes.

Madeline walked slowly back to the
truck, feeling the wet grass on her feet, feeling the hard thud of
her heart. She opened his door, reached in, and turned off the
engine.

Once it ceased, there was only the
cadence of the rain’s aftermath, sweet smells fresh dark air, and
crickets. She stepped back, obviously inviting him out. He slid out
and closed the truck door softly. Madeline took his hand, walked
beside him to the dark porch.

She could hear him breathing deep and
hard as she guided him to the matching wicker chair. Bracing one
knee beside his hip, Madeline leaned down, kissing him
erotically.

She took her time, seeking out the
moist, heated, corners, laving across his tongue. She captured his
lower lip, suckled lightly, then licked across his mouth barely
touching.

When he tried to embrace her, she moved
his hands, putting them on the chair arms. Curling her fingers over
his, so he would know to hold on.

Cupping his face Madeline rubbed her
lips over his, and then drug them over his jaw, down his throat.
She suckled and nipped at the sinew. She savored his flavor and
scent, breathing against his skin.

Moving her knee, Madeline bent down to
bite lightly at his nipples and lave them. She suckled hard,
hearing his hiss, the low groan, saw his knees widen and his hips
flex.

Eager, aroused, the taste of his skin
was adding to her own pleasure. Madeline felt sexual for the first
time in twenty years. She felt high; and wondered vaguely how she
had gone so long without tasting him, kissing him, touching him?
How she could have forgotten the almost addictive hunger that
flared when she did?

Rubbing his legs and up inside his
thighs, Madeline leaned back and watched his head drop against the
round chair back. Mitch was trying to relax, his hands flexed on
the chair arms. She undid the snap of his jeans, his
zipper.

Mitch raised his head, looking at her
with half closed eyes. He swallowed twice.

Madeline held that hot gaze when she
took him in her fist. He made a rough sound in his throat and
caught his breath.

Lowering her head, she held him with a
wet mouth.

He muttered, “This isn’t happening…is
it?” As if, he could not quite believe it.

Madeline made sure he knew it was real.
She got super turned on doing it for him. Feeling his pleasure in
it. Mitch was so much a man.

It didn’t take long. In fact, if it
weren’t for his helpless curse, she wouldn’t have been prepared.
His hands were in her hair, moving her mouth off of him, he was
trying to slide back in the chair awkwardly, and it ended up a
messy situation.

“
Shit,” he ground out. The
scent of him strong in the air between them.

Madeline laughed softly, letting him
know it was no big deal, and grabbed a towel lying across the
banister and wiped them both off. She even managed a little tease
about it, to let him know it was all good. “Hey, it’s a good thing,
Mitch.”