Saving Toby (14 page)

19. Claudia

The concert had ended, and we were back in my car. Toby was
driving south, towards the water, and my neighborhood.

“Are you taking me home already?”

He shook his head. “If you think I’m settling for a kiss on
your doorstep, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re the guy my father always warned
me about,” I teased.

Taking my hand in his, he interlaced our fingers and rested
our hands on my thigh. “And you still went out with me?” He raised an eyebrow
at me and grinned. “Well, now you’re about to find out why he said that.”

“Oh, boy,” I said, trying my best to appear indifferent
while my stomach curled into a tight bundle of anticipation.

He laughed as he pulled my car into the Lands End parking
lot. The large paved area had a spectacular view of the water and of the jetty
lining the Brown’s Creek inlet. Fifty or so yards off the jetty, a Fire Island
ferry was churning up a wake as it began its journey across the bay.

Now that dusk had settled in, the regulars who usually went
down to fish or simply to admire the view were gone for the day. Only a few
other parked cars dotted the open lot. Local kids, I guessed, just like us.
“Parking.”

Toby turned off the engine and twisted in the seat to face
me. The warmth in his eyes made me tingle all over.

“Remember, I have limits,” I warned.

“I’m not going to push you anywhere you don’t want to go.
But you didn’t wear that dress just to engage in conversation all night.”

“That’s not exactly true,” I demurred, playing coy. “I like
talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too, but I spent most of our date
thinking about getting you alone.”

He held my hand, slowly rubbing each finger gently between
his before kissing my open palm. All the while, his eyes danced with wicked
intention. “Does that make you nervous?”

In the swelling heat of awareness, I struggled to allay a
quiver of excitement, and I lied.

“No.”

“Good,” he said and brazenly stared at my chest. “Because
I’m ready for skin to skin contact.”

My face grew hot, and I let out a tinny laugh. “Are you this
aggressive and explicit with all girls?”

“With you, I think I need to be. You’re always so cool and
collected. But I know something’s bubbling hot underneath that self-control.”

His assumption amused me. “And you know this, how?”

“You react every time I come near you. Even right now,
you’re practically squirming in your seat. And I feel it all over me,
especially here,” he held my hand over his heart. Our eyes held as his
heartbeat drummed under my palm. “And here,” he lowered my hand. Before I
realized what he was doing, my fingers brushed his groin.

I yanked my hand away. “Oh, my God! You’re such a caveman,”
I huffed, shocked at his audacity.

He just cocked an eyebrow at me. “But I bet you’re sitting
in a puddle over there.”

“Jeez!” I groaned. My pulse was racing. Other than a brief
cuddle at the park, we hadn’t kissed all evening. Despite all his innuendos—or
maybe because of them—I was eager to get close to him.

His smile grew wider. “Prepare to defend yourself,” he said
and slipped out of the car. With nervous thrill, I watched as he strode around
to my side and opened my door. “Slide over.”

“Where?” I asked as he pushed himself into the seat with me.
I was wedged against the center console until he pulled me onto his lap. He
dropped his right arm to the side of the seat and felt around. Seconds later,
he yanked the seat lever, and suddenly we both went down—fully reclined—me,
prone atop him, breathless and fidgeting with the thought of what was about to
come.

“That’s more like it,” he said, putting his hands around my
waist. “This car is pretty comfortable. Make out in here much?”

“No. I generally drive my car, not make out in it,” I felt
his hands move warmly over my back. “You’d be my first.”

“
Mmm
,” he murmured, and drew my face towards him. We
kissed, slowly, with just our lips. It was sweet, nice, not anything like the
bold taunts he’d made. I settled comfortably into the crook of his arm, and,
breaking off the kiss, I admired the flawless symmetry of his face in the dusky
light. I laid a fingertip on his cheek and got caught up in tracing the
straightness of his perfect nose down to the flared tip, to the fullness of his
bottom lip as it curved with his grin. I continued languidly exploring his
face, tracing the angle of his jaw and sliding my hand over his perfectly
groomed chin until my finger settled into a small groove. I stopped, traced it
again, and inspected it closer. It was a thin jagged, white indentation made by
scar tissue.

“What’s this from?”

“Close encounter with my brother and the coffee table.” Toby
reached up to thumb the ripple on his chin and then shrugged. “Just one of
many.”

I laid my head on his chest and stroked the scar, trying to
gentle the old hurt. “I get that your brother was awful to you, but aren’t you
in the least bit curious to see if he’s trying to apologize in those letters he
wrote?”

“Nope. I’m not interested in an apology or anything he has
to say. If you’re so curious, you read them.”

Excited, I rolled back on top of him. “Really? You’d let me
read the letters?”

He shifted my weight, centering me over him, but with a look
of uncertainty, he stilled. “Um, maybe. I don’t know. Please don’t make me
think about it while you’re lying on top of me like this!” he groaned, a hitch
in his voice. “My brother and your body cannot coexist in my head.”

He looked down at my cleavage. I was mashed up against his
chest, and because of the open neckline, the girls were popping out all over
the place. I blushed profusely.

“I’ve been praying for a wardrobe malfunction all night,” he
grinned, and suddenly his hands were cupping me through the material, his large
palms making a circular motion over my breasts. My breath caught in my throat.

The next kiss was hot. With our mouths fused together, I
forgot any objection as I sank down into him. As his hands pressed and kneaded
me into a heightened arousal, he began to trail kisses down my throat
intermingling them with a flick of his tongue. I sighed with pleasure. He
unequivocally knew how to stir things up with his mouth.

Sliding his hands to my hips, he gripped me tightly and our
bodies created a hot friction as he slid me forward over him. All the while, he
continued his trail of licks and kisses right down into the hollow of my
cleavage. He held me above him, and all I could do was clutch onto his
shoulders as his mouth began to travel places no other’s had ever been. The
dress strap stretched, the fabric gently rubbing against my sensitized skin as
he pushed it aside, exposing my left breast. I heard his murmur of pleasure,
and then his lips were on my breast encircling my nipple.

Using his tongue and lips, he enticed the peak into a
hardened nub. My whole body burned in an achy, unfamiliar and sweet response.
It felt wild and incredible, and I arched toward him, pushing my breast at him,
wanting to fill his mouth. With his left hand, he fondled my neglected right
breast. My body corded up, feeling ready to snap as the tension mounted, and
our sighs grew more fervent. Out of control, stretched to my limit, uneasiness
began to build in my head.

“Please,” I begged.

“Please, what?” He asked in a low, husky voice. “What do you
want, baby?”

“I want you to stop.”

“No, you don’t,” he whispered, and with his lips slightly
parted, he continued, appearing blissfully preoccupied with my undoing.

“Yes, I do,” I said with a hushed firmness and rolled off of
him, wedging myself between his body and the console. The size of my swollen
nipple startled me, and I quickly covered it with my hand. “Did you forget
we’re in a public parking lot? Anyone could pull up alongside and see us.”

“They’re too busy having sex in their own cars to care what
we’re doing. Except maybe the pervs who come down to watch.”

I gasped, “Pervs?”

His smirk mirrored the devil-may-care look in his eyes. “I’m
kidding. Don’t worry. I guarantee you no one’s looking. If someone pulls up
next to us, we’ll hear them. Now, where were we?” he murmured trying to peel
away my hand and replace it with his.

I refused to move my hand. With a sigh, he watched me adjust
the dress to cover myself. “Even if that’s so, it’s too much. I’ve never let a
guy do that before.”

“Maybe it would be easier if you tell me what you have done,
so I know what’s uncharted territory.”

Uncomfortable with disclosing this, I twirled my necklace
around my finger.

“Kissing and some touching, over my clothes.”

He cocked his head in surprise. “That’s all?” When I nodded,
he lowered his face into the crook of my neck and mumbled, “Damn, this is going
to be tough.”

“You make it sound like such a test. Do you honestly have to
try that hard?”

He leaned back to look at me. “Claude, sex feels good,” he
said, stroking my upper arm with his fingertips. The gentle touch sent little
tingles down my back. “And unlike you, most girls don’t feel the need to hold
off.”

“Are you telling me you had sex with every girlfriend you’ve
had?”

“No, not every one.”

“Did you love them?”

“Maybe no one told you, but you don’t have to be in love to
have sex.”

“I’m well aware of that. I just want to know if you loved
any of them.” Though I wondered how many girls he’d been with, I was more
curious about his emotional intimacies than his physical ones.

“I liked them all, and some I liked a lot, but it’s never
been more than that,” Toby said.

His inexperience with love seemed to even us out somewhat.
“I believe people should be in love before they reach that level of intimacy.”

Toby traced my bottom lip with his index finger, and he
asked, “So I have to make you fall in love with me if I want to get anywhere
with you?”

“No, you don’t have to do anything,” I clarified. “But when
I get, as you call it, tight with someone, I plan on being in love first.”

“Alright,” he said. “I got it.”

“Good.” I took his hand. “Can we go easy tonight? Maybe lay
here and just kiss a little more?”

He shifted himself from under me so now I was on the seat
and he was over me. Pressing a kiss on my mouth, he smiled. “Okay, but one day
you’re going to beg me not to stop.”

“If you say so,” I replied, mocking his confidence.

“I do say,” he curled an arm around my waist. “Now be quiet
so I can kiss you. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

“Why’s that?”

“I have orders to bring you back to my house. I think Julia
wants to make sure I haven’t made our whole date up.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because she’s met some of my other girlfriends. You’re very
different—smart, good—the whole package. I’m sure Julia’s home doing a happy
dance.”

Laughing, I put my arms around his neck. “Your mom is so
cute. I would love to go back and see her before you take me home.”

And then, I pulled his face down to mine.

Later, walking to Toby’s front door, I noticed that the
bushes along the front of the house were trimmed, and some of them were gone
altogether. I stopped, astonished at the transformation. The house still needed
a lot more work, but the difference was noticeable.

Aunt Joan and Mrs. Faye were doing a large jigsaw puzzle at
the kitchen table, and we joined them for a while. Mrs. Faye was practically
giddy over us ending our date with her. I caught her watching us as Toby put
his arm around me. Unlike at home, the atmosphere with Mrs. Faye was relaxed.
Toby and I were accepted without question.

“Did Toby tell you that I’m going to finally see my
grandson?” she beamed.

“No.” I turned to Toby in surprise. “You didn’t tell me
you’d spoken to Felicia already.”

“Hey, I was getting my date on,” he smiled.

“Felicia is bringing Dylan up for a visit the second week in
July,” Mrs. Faye filled me in.

I grinned. “You must be so excited.”

“Oh, yes! Felicia emailed us some pictures, too.” With a smile
a mile wide, she pushed some computer printed images towards me. “He’s such a
beautiful baby.”

We stayed for about an hour before Toby drove me back to my
house. Before we got out of the car, we exchanged a couple of quick kisses, and
he asked, “Did you have fun tonight?”

I thought back to our evening’s dramatic start, the concert,
to parking by the water, and finally to the calm end with his mother.

“Fun doesn’t do our date justice, but, yes, I had a really
nice time,” I said and glanced up at him. “I just hope it’s not going to be a
problem for you to go slow with me.”

“It’s not a problem,” he answered without pause. “I won’t
stop trying to touch you, but if you think I’m coming on too strong, tell me.
I’ll back off.” He ran a hand through my hair and brought it around to touch my
face.

I warmed at the sweet gesture. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Lifting his eyes to mine, he asked, “Claudia, can you see
yourself falling for a guy like me?”

His tone was unusually serious, and, for a moment, I was
startled, almost paralyzed over the topic—he wanted to know if I’d fall in love
with him. And then I remembered our earlier conversation.

“God, you are really hung up on the sex thing.”

He leaned away from me and sighed. “It’s not that,” he said
quietly, and I waited for him to go on. He fidgeted with my car keys and
avoided looking my way. “I just want to know if you think that I’m, I don’t
know … good enough for that to happen.”

I blinked. I didn’t expect such an insecure question from
him.

I tried to be truthful. “When we first met, I didn’t think
we had anything in common, but on some strange, unpredictable level, we
connect. But,” I said, “I have never thought I was too good for you, Toby.”