Pieces of Paisley (12 page)
“I know, Jake. I had a long talk with my mom and after, we both calmed down. I promise to tell you from now on.”
She picks her notebook back up and begins to recite about the decision they came to, as a family. She is no longer enrolled at her local high school, but at the community college that offers adult education. Essentially, she will get her diploma, not GED, but at her own pace. She gets the lessons, can attend class or not, but has to go in to take tests to move on to next set of lessons. Basically, home school with freedom.
“Is this all because of me?”
“Yes and no, Jake. It works out better for our relationship, and it makes me happy. It was actually my mom who found this program, and it was that or possibly flunking my senior year, and that was not an option.”
“I will say I am shocked. I am happy, but yet don’t want you to make decisions that will alter your future. You have to be sure about this, beautiful.”
“I am, Jake. This is so much better for me. My parents have basically decided, even though I am seventeen, they will treat me more like an adult. Since I don’t have early classes anymore, I don’t have an early curfew. I am allowed to spend weekends with you as long as I still respect the rules at their house and check in, we come to dinner every Sunday night, and I am home at midnight every other night.”
“You worked all this out while I was gone?”
“Yes, I did. My mom saw how upset and miserable I was after our phone call. Kara came up and spent the week at the house and that helped. After lots of shouting, tears, and silence she came to the realization of how much I am in love with you and how much I am holding myself back. So, are you happy?”
“Happiness doesn’t explain how I feel right now.”
“You can reward me when we get home.” She winks at me, and I don’t know where that insecure girl went. When I left her I wasn’t sure we would be having a conversation like this, but she kicked that girl to the curb and brought back my Paisley. I plan on rewarding her, multiple times.
She directs me to the apartment building and we head inside. She leads me to my bedroom, which somehow she has furnished and put together. I don’t have time to ask before she pushes me back on the bed. I try and slow her down because she is still going to be tight, and we can’t rush this. She has had sex one time and all of a sudden she is Jenna Jameson. “Slow down, Paisley. What has gotten into you?”
“I’ve been reading
Cosmo
and ‘how to please your man’ books. Plus, Kara is a wealth of knowledge. I love her to death, but you know, she was kind of a ho before Rick. The shit she told me . . . they are kinky as fuck.” I know this situation doesn’t call for it, but I laugh uncontrollably.
Cosmo
? Books? Kara? I could have done without the Kara and Rick info, but damn this girl will never stop surprising me. The laughter dies on my lips when she removes her shirt, bra, jeans, and begins removing her panties. When those land in my face, and I inhale her scent, all bets are off.
I tug her down on the bed with me, and as I start kissing her collarbone to her ear and gently bite down, it elicits a moan from her that goes straight to my cock. I bite a bit firmer and she is squirming underneath me, reaching for my shirt at the same time. I sit back and take off my shirt, when I hear her voice, “All of it. I want it all off.” Ask and you shall receive. I strip down and go back to work with my lips. After each kiss, I drag my tongue and teeth over the same spot. I start with her neck and work down to her right nipple. Once I am happy with that, I give ample attention to her left nipple. They are both standing at firm peaks, so I pinch them firmly and tug once as I release them. “Holy shit, baby. Don’t stop.” Oh, my girl has gotten vocal since I have been gone. I don’t stop and descend down her body, grazing on her stomach and reaching the core of her.
I feel her try to bring her legs together, and I am not having any of that. “Relax, Pais.” I push her legs open and gently lick up her slit. When she moans and relaxes her legs, I follow that motion a few more times. She grips the comforter, and I quit playing with her. I suck her clit in my mouth and nip at it. When her head starts thrashing from side to side, I add two fingers and work them in and out of her while never releasing her clit from my mouth. When she clamps down around me, clenching around my fingers and screaming my name, I release her from my mouth, withdraw my finger, and slam my dick into her. I probably shouldn’t be so rough, but holy fucking shit that was more than I could take.
I take her mouth and swallow her moans. I reach in between us and rub her clit while I never slow my relentless pounding. She is meeting me thrust for thrust, and when I feel her tightening around me once again, I push in harder and faster and release myself in her. Once I catch my breath, I look at her, “For fuck’s sake, beautiful, are you trying to kill me?”
“Nope,” she giggles. “You said practice makes perfect, and I was the only one with no practice, so I read and researched a lot, and I have been waiting to detonate for the past two damn weeks, baby.” I wrap her in my arms and pull the covers around us. When I wake up later and my cock is in the back of her throat, I think I may order her a subscription to
Cosmo
, a lifetime fucking subscription.
Chapter 11
Paisley
A woman knows the face of the man she loves as a sailor knows the open sea.
I don’t know if it is really appropriate for me at age seventeen to be thinking the words ‘domestic bliss,’ but those are the only words I can use to describe how this weekend is progressing. I get to spend the entire night in his arms, wake up to his kisses, and hear his voice telling me he loves me. I sent him to the store with a specific list of items so I can cook dinner for him tonight. I set the folding table and make it look the best I can. As Jake walks in the door with a dozen roses and my bag of ingredients, he bends down to kiss me, and I think to myself
‘I could get used to this.’
I looked up a recipe for cube steak online, and it looks easy enough and goes with the mashed potatoes I am making. I hope I can pull off the gravy; I probably should have had him buy the package gravy. I may be getting over-ambitious here.
“Beautiful, if you want to keep cooking for me like this, then we need to get a real table.” Wow, we are actually being domestic.
“Sure thing. Sounds great,” I reply back to him, keeping an eye on the potatoes that aren’t boiling so I can mash them. The meat is slowly shrinking and charring. I quickly glance at Jake to make sure he isn’t witnessing my epic fail. He is watching some game on the television, and I start scrolling through recipes trying to find out where I went wrong and nothing is making sense. I get the flour and milk out to start the gravy, thinking I can cover the mess with gravy . . . everything tastes better with gravy . . . right? From the looks of my gravy, it definitely won’t be making anything look better or taste better. Salt. Salt always works. As I am frantically shaking salt over everything on the stove, I hear chuckling behind me. I turn around so quickly I burn my elbow on the eye of the stove.
“Son of a whore-dog bitch.”
“Let me see, Paisley.” He gently examines it and grabs some ice and places it over the blister forming as he reaches around me to turn off the burners. “Pizza?”
I refuse to answer. I will not admit defeat. I grab a fork and start testing the potatoes to see if they are soft enough to peel and mash. I have my answer when the fork won’t pierce them. “Shit!”
“It’s fine, babe.”
“But I wanted to make you dinner,” I whine.
“Pizza is fine. What were you trying to make?”
“Cube steak, mashed potatoes and gravy,” I am stating that way too proudly especially when I glance at the end result.
“Beautiful, you know you have to peel and cut up the potatoes before you boil them?”
“What?” I grab my phone and start to frantically search the recipe for mashed potatoes. “It states clearly, right here, boil potatoes until soft.”
“You missed the whole top part, where it states, explicitly, peel and dice potatoes.”
I glare at him and return to studying the recipe. “Well, great. The ad on this page is distracting and misleading. I missed an entire part of each of these recipes.” Once he pointed out the mistake I made on the potatoes, I flipped back to the cube steak recipe. Totally missed the part that said cook on medium-low heat, covered in water and oil for an hour before browning each side. “Pizza it is,” I begrudgingly tell him. I want to cry out of frustration, but when he starts laughing and wiping my cheek I lose my train of thought.
“You have some flour right here,” he continues to rub at my cheek.
“All I need is the apron, and I would be like the little wife at home.”
“That will work just fine for me, one day, Pais. One day.” He is so sincere I don’t have a doubt in my mind I will be his, forever. We enjoy our pizza and revel in the feeling of solitude we have. Rick’s leave is fourteen days, so other than the nights I have to go home, we can go back to our bubble. We flourish better there. I am going to beg my mom to overlook the weekday curfew and see if she will just let me stay with Jake for the next two weeks. Once Rick and Kara get home, it will be Jake’s leave and Christmas.
Later that night when it is time for bed I watch Jake strip out of his shirt and shorts, my mouth waters, but truthfully I am sore. We have been more than adventurous and made up for lots of time away in the last twenty-four hours. “I think I am going to watch a movie in the living room, I am not tired yet,” I lie to him. I just never want to deny him.
“Come here,” he demands of me. When I don’t immediately follow his command, he softens his voice, “Beautiful, what’s wrong?” I am so stupid for not saying ‘Screw being sore’ and just letting it happen.
“Nothing, Jake. I just won’t be able to fall asleep, and I don’t want to keep you up.”
“You will keep me up not being in my arms. Why can’t you stay with me and watch a movie from bed.” I am wracking my brain coming up with an excuse when he uses my distraction against me. He made his way over to me without me even knowing, and he wraps his arms around me, and my cheek meets his bare chest. “What is wrong, Paisley?”
“I am really sore, and we can’t have sex, and I don’t want to be the girlfriend who denies you and then you go looking for it somewhere else.” I have opened the vault of truth and the words flow out.
He pushes me back and tilts my face upwards. “Beautiful, don’t ever feel like you have to have sex with me to sleep in my arms. Every time you give yourself to me it is a gift, I never expect it. Do I love it? Hell, yes. Will I be fine if I don’t get it tonight, or any night you don’t feel like it? I will be just fine, and any night I get you in my arms, sex or no sex is the best night of my life.”
Damn this ache in my vagina. Those words make me want to jump on him and do naughty things, but walking is really not overrated, and if I did what I wanted I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow, and it is family night. I don’t think my step-dad would appreciate me walking in the house bow-legged with a boyfriend who just got off deployment and is hornier than a four-balled tomcat. So I will refrain from the images playing in my head. Neither of us says a word as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and gently takes off my shirt and bra, never making it sexual. Sensual as hell, he has me on high alert, but it is more of him tending to me, showing me I am his priority, not sex. He grabs one of his t-shirts and pulls it over my head, then removes my pants and pulls back the covers. Once I get in bed he asks which movie I want to watch.
“None, I was making excuses so I didn’t have to tell you.”
“Pais, I told you about that. You have to share with me. If we are going to make this work, I need to be able to trust that you will tell me when something is wrong, and you have to trust me to always put you first.” I don’t have words for him, so I reach my arms out to him. He quickly turns out the light and climbs in bed. Once he is settled on his back, he pulls me as tightly to his side as he can, and my head finds the spot between his shoulder and neck. I inhale and give him a quick kiss. I settle down and feel myself losing the battle to sleep with Jake’s fingers playing in my hair. The last thing I hear is him whispering, “I love you Paisley Hull.” I fall into a deep sleep and wake up refreshed and ready to tolerate my parents for dinner, and hopefully I will be returning to the apartment to play house with Jake.
The morning flies by and we decide to butter my mom up and show up early. I can tell by the surprise on her face that she wasn’t expecting us. “I figured you lovebirds would be enjoying some quiet time,” my mom states.
“I came to see if you needed some help.” I am so full of shit I am surprised my eyes aren’t brown.
“I want it noted, if she helps with the edible stuff, I hope everyone likes pizza,” Jake adds. I elbow him in the gut, and he laughs and goes to watch the game with Marcus.
“I take it making dinner didn’t go well last night?” my mom asks me.
“You would be correct in assuming that.” I smirk at her. It isn’t like with Jake’s comment that wasn’t obvious. “I missed the first half of instructions on both dishes, so we had pizza.”