So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door (77 page)

TWENTY-FOUR

A third Thug has taken up residence at Aunt Delores’s gate.
A fourth at the end of the Buckners’ drive. Thugs One and Two alternate
guarding their door and checking the perimeter.

It’s been two days since I sent Buck home after I so
stupidly told him about my miscarriage. Since then, he’s been over here five
times, carrying a bigger more elaborate bouquet with each visit. Every time
I’ve been able to get Sadie or Aunt Delores to answer the door and send him
packing.

Aunt Delores and Sadie were going stir crazy, so they went
to town to buy a bucket of chicken and take a break from the drama zone. At
least, that’s how Aunt Delores put it right before she went out the door.

And she left just seconds before I looked out the window to
see Buck trotting across the backyard, more flowers in hand, and a case of some
sort on his back.

A cameraman follows a few yards behind him.

I’m gonna get that woman. I bet she did that on purpose. She
left me here to deal with Buck—and his crew. Crap.

Fine. I’ll just pretend I’m not home. I drop the blinds and
dash to my room. He can just knock until his fool head comes off. I’m not
answering. Nothing says I have to answer. If he thinks a few lilies and long-stemmed
roses are going to erase the past, he needs to think again.

The knock at the front door jars me, even though I’m expecting
it. I steel myself to ignore it, but he just keeps knocking. I twist my hands,
pacing the length of my room.

Finally, he ceases. I drop to sit on the edge of the bed, in
the same spot Buck sat the last time we talked. I lean forward, in the same
position, elbows on knees, head in hands.

A knock on the exterior door to my room makes me jump to my
feet.

Shit. Now what?

I start into the hall to get further from the door he’s now
banging on, but the knocking ceases. Then the strumming of a banjo halts my
steps.

What the fuck?

My mind is immediately carried back to the last time I heard
that instrument.

Buck must’ve been about twelve and I was probably almost
eleven. Bucks’ Pops had gotten a new guitar and Buck wanted so badly to play
it. But, being the smart man he was, instead of giving Buck the guitar to play
with, he dug out an old banjo from the closet and gifted it to Buck, who
grinned like he’d been given a brand new Fender or Gibson.

He tried for the longest to learn to play. Never was very
good, bless his heart, though he did try. He only managed to learn one song.

I shake my head. It was the song he plays now.
Old
Suzanna
.

My hand covers my mouth, when his voice comes through the
closed door.

Oh, my freaking lord.

He sings off-key, “
Oh, I come from California with my
banjo on my knee,

I'm going to Louisiana, my true love for to see.

Oh! Loula Mae, Oh don't you cry for me,

For I come from California with my banjo on my knee.

For I left my pride upon a shelf; I hope she sees that I

Try to change her mind about our love. Loula Mae now
don’t you
—”

I wrench the door open. “Oh, for the love of sanity. If I
let you in, will you
shut the fuck up
?”

Buck tosses the banjo to the deck and turns, giving the
camera guy a thumbs-up over the railing.

I let him in and shut the door, and then I double check that
the curtains are closed.

I turn to him. “You are seriously disturbed.”

“No, I’m desperate.”

His blue-green gaze won’t leave me. I look away, but when my
eyes flick back to him, he’s still watching me.

“Well, you’re in. Say whatever it is you need to say, so you
can leave.”

He grabs my hands. “Lou, I know what happened. I didn’t see
it before, but I think I get it now.”

My chest freezes. I want to answer with some scathing
remark, but there just aren’t any words left in my sarcasm tank to spew at him
at the moment.

He drags me to sit on the bed. “You said the other day that
I left like I was gifting you your freedom. I was. That’s exactly what I was
doing. Maybe you were looking at things from a different perspective than me.”

“Ya think?”

He pulls out his phone and taps the screen.

I stare at him for a moment, but it’s taking forever.

Meanwhile, the little ridiculous kernel of hope in my gut
fades. “Look, Buck. Go take care of your business. You obviously have more
important things to do than talk to me right now.”

He looks up. “No. I’m trying to load something for you to
watch. You
need
to see this.”

“I thought you came here to talk.”

He nods. “I did. I even brought my cameraman to catch that
badly out of tune display of affection because I want you to understand that
California, Hollywood, my career, none of it is more important to me than you.
It never has been.”

I step back, holding my hands up to stop him. “No. Please.
Let’s not do this. You don’t need to lie to me. We both know how important your
career is. It’s all you talked about that last year before you left.”

“Well, yeah, it’s important, but never more so than you. I
kept talking about it, because I had to keep it in my mind that I was leaving…that
things between us were going to change. Otherwise, I’d never have been able to
leave so you could have a better life.”

He pushes his phone into my hands, though I try to shove it
back toward him.

He brushes the hair out of my eyes. “Please, just watch. If
you’ll allow it, they’re going to air it tomorrow night on the show.”

I swallow, my stomach tripping over itself and tangling into
knots.

He taps the screen in my hands. “Watch.”

It’s him on screen with Trudi.

Trudi introduces herself, explaining she’s Celebrity
Homecoming’s field producer. “I’m here with Buck Wylder to learn a bit more
about his relationship with Ms. Loula Mae Fontaine. The world’s dying to know
what the story is. So, in your own words, Buck, tell us about your history with
Loula.”

My knotted stomach crawls into my throat, and I can barely
breathe around it.

The on-screen version of Buck scratches his neck, but then
he looks directly into the camera. “Well, Lou and I grew up two houses down
from each other. Her mom was—let’s just say she probably didn’t much want to be
a mother, and she had other things on her mind rather than Lou’s well being.”

He rubs his chin. “Lou was always my best friend. She and I
did almost everything together. So, when she hurt, it hurt me—all the way to my
core. Unfortunately for Lou, she hurt a lot because of who her mom and dad were
in the community. And, well, people in this town weren’t too kind to a little
girl of mixed race.”

I cringe at the millions of memories that bombard me; the
sneers and upturned noses and comments made under people’s breath as I’d walk
in or out of a store.

Buck runs his hand down my back, setting his chin on my
shoulder.

Trudi leans forward. “So, Loula Mae is important to you and
has been for a long time.”

The Buck on the phone shifts in his chair. “She’s more than
important, Trudi. She’s vital to my happiness, to my life.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Again those eyes capture me through the screen. “Because,
Loula Mae is—well—she
was
—my wife.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Lou turns to me, her jaw hanging loose, her green eyes as
wide as I’ve ever seen them.

She tosses my phone against the wall. “What the
fuck
did you tell them that for?”

Uh oh. Maybe not the best idea.

“I think this will be the thing that’ll get them off your
case. A man’s allowed to give money to his ex-wife. People expect it.”

She jumps up, throwing her hands in the air. “But—but—aw,
hell, Buck. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you’ll let me allow them to air this. It’s the only way
to put to bed all this speculation about our relationship and the money I gave
you.”

“Or, we can tell them the fucking truth. You know…that I’m a
prostitute.”

“You are
not
. You and I both know I’d have given you
that money anyway, and you’d have come into my bed without a dime. The deal we
made was an excuse for both of us.”

She crosses her arms, looking at me through narrowed eyes.
“Speak for yourself.”

I stand, running my finger down her arm. Her skin is so
smooth and soft against the back of my finger. “You really think I’ll believe
you wouldn’t have given in to this attraction? Nope. Can’t convince me of that,
Lou. It’s too strong for either of us.”

She closes her eyes. “But telling them we were
married
?”

I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s
also
the truth. And I fucked it up. I should never have left you, Lou.”

“But you did leave, Buck. You
did
.”

I did.

My thoughts scramble, but I find the one I want most. “Only
because it was best for you. It was the deal we made, Lou. And by the time you
turned eighteen, you had that scholarship and a way out. All I did was free the
path for you to take it.”

I drop to the bed. The memory of that day rushes through my
mind as I sift through the facts, trying to grab hold of one that will show Lou
I was doing what was best for her, not myself.

Lou pushes her fingers over her face and into her curls.
“Did it seem like I wanted to be free?”

“We made a deal. I was just standing by it.”

“We made a deal in the aftermath of a shitty childhood.”

“That’s right. Marry to get you out from under your mom and
keep you out of the child welfare system, and then divorce when you turned
eighteen. Then you’d be in charge of your future.”

“Fourteen months, Buck. We were married for fourteen months.
A lot happened in that time.”

Nothing happened during those fourteen months, except that
her mom hit the road after I forced her to sign the papers for Lou and me to
get married. It took threatening her with the cops for what she and that douche
tried to do. The only other thing that happened was that Lou flourished in
peace, living with Delores and Manny.

I can’t fathom what she means. “
What
happened, Lou?”

“
You
happened, Buck. You.”

“
Me
? But I didn’t change. Nothing changed. Well, not
until that last night.”

Her head falls back, and she growls. “You drive me fucking
crazy, you idiot. I fell so deeply in love with you that there was no coming
back. That last night was just the
beginning
for me, but for you it was
the end.”

“No. It was never
the end
for me. That’s where you’ve
got it all wrong.” I snag her hand, pulling her close. “I still love you, Lou.”

My heart doesn’t know whether to shit or go blind. Confusion
reigns, and I’m at a loss.

Buck slides his hands behind me and up my back, dragging me
closer until my breasts press against his chest. “Tell me you missed me, Lou.
Tell me you love me.”

I pull back a bit and brush the hair from my eyes.
“I—you—that’s not fair…”

He leans in, swiping his mouth roughly across mine. “Life’s
not fair.”

Buck nips my bottom lip. His tongue delves in; its velvety
softness slides along mine. My chest quivers as I meet him halfway, my hands
moving to his nape, as I push closer.

His fingers find the exposed skin below my cutoff T-shirt.
His kiss deepens as he tightens his grip. A small throb beats its way to my
pussy as he drags kisses along my jaw to the pulse point on my neck. He stops
to gently suck, heating my blood so it sends warm moisture to my slit.

His hand moves to my bare breast. He twists my nipple, just
enough to pinch, heightening my senses.

I slide my hands over his pecs, down his washboard abs, and
under his hem. The skin beneath my fingers is as hot as my pussy. I push his
shirt up as I find his flat nipples and return his tweak. He gives me a little
grunt, so I do it again.

“Fuck, Woman.”

“We’ll get to that.”

He looks into my eyes. His sparkle with mischief as he pulls
my top over my head, baring my tits. He takes them in both hands and pushes
them up. He doesn’t break eye contact as he slips his tongue over one beaded
nipple after the other. He grates his teeth across one, and then the other as
he squeezes. The sensation shoots straight to my pussy, eliciting more cream.

My breath comes heavier as he sucks them, soothing the raw
nerves.

He moves back up, his mouth plundering mine. His big hands
knead my tits as he walks me backward to the bed.

“I’m going eat that pussy, Lou. I’m going to lick you from
hole to hole, and tickle everything in between, but not until you tell me you
missed me.”

My entrance tingles at his words. I bite my lip. “Why’s it
so important to you for me to say that?”

He pushes me down onto the bed and whips his shirt off. He
pops the button on his jeans. “Because…”

I grab his waistband and pull his pants to his knees,
freeing his stiffened cock. “That’s no answer.”

His eyes narrow for a moment, as though considering his
words as he steps out of his pants. “I want to know that I wasn’t the only one
living in a special kind of hell reserved for those who’ve lost their other
half.”

My hands clench, nails digging into my palms as I close my
eyes, my breath trapped in shocked lungs that refuse to work for the moment.
The ability to speak must be something that can shut off, because that’s what
his words have done to me. Though, even if I could utter a word, I don’t know
what I’d say.

So, in the absence of words, I loosen my fists and kneel to
take hold of his dick, pulling it to my mouth. I lick the bead of clear
moisture from its tip with the flat of my tongue, savoring the salty flavor.

He looks down on me as I slide my mouth over his cock,
taking him as deep as he’ll go before pulling away in slow motion. My lips drag
along his length, bumping over every ridge, vein, and contour, until they come
off the end with a pop. Then I do it again, and he throws his head back, his
hand tangling in my hair, his fingers tensing in rhythm with my movements.

I take his balls in my mouth, ever so gently slipping my
tongue over them, before moving back to his dick. The tip of my tongue circles
the head and laps up the slippery liquid waiting for me. He hardens even more,
his cock flexing along with his grip on my hair.

With my lips tight over him, I suck him in, deep and hard.
His breath is audible as he lets out an exhale in increments as I take him in,
again and again. The view from his dick, looking up, is better than any porn
I’ve seen.

The light plays over the V leading up and over his hips. His
flat navel is topped by defined abs and perfectly developed pecs. The disks of
his nipples pucker a tiny bit in his pleasure as I suck his cock and massage
his balls with the tips of my fingers.

He looks down, catching me watching him.

He grins and licks his lips. “I could live with your lips
wrapped around my cock forever, Lou. But right now, I want some of that pussy
to fill my mouth, and I want to taste you come on my tongue.”

He pulls out of my grasp and lies on the bed, his proud
erection straining. He waves me to him. “C’mere. Let’s taste each other.”

I unbutton my jean shorts, letting them slip to the floor.
Then I climb over him, my ass over his face, my knees on either side of his
head. I push my palms over his chest and abs, down to his cock, taking it in
both hands as I let my knees slide out from under me until my pubic bone grazes
his chin.

My chest against his abs, I tickle the head of his cock with
the tip of my tongue as I run my hands up and down his hard-on.

His breath’s hot at my entrance as his hands smooth up my
legs and over my ass cheeks. His thumbs massage the insides of my thighs,
barely skimming the edges of my pussy.

I pull his dick into my mouth and suck all the way to the
end, popping him free again. He kisses the hollow of my thigh, his cheeks
brushing my pussy. His breath heats me again, but still no tongue. I turn to
look around my shoulder.

“Stop teasing me, you jackass. If you’re going to eat pussy,
then eat it.”

He lets out another breath, right onto my clit. “Not until
you say it, Lou.”

I swallow.

Fuck.

“Fine. I missed you, Buck. God, I missed you. The right word
doesn’t even exist to describe how much I’ve fucking missed your stupid ass.
Happy?”

His chuckle vibrates through my pussy. “More than I can
say.”

His tongue traces my slit from my tight little hole to my
clit, circling it and moving to dip into my pussy. His breath is hot over my
entrance, and I relax to let my pussy sink onto his mouth as he kisses me deeply,
his tongue exploring every small space and fold.

As my breath comes in small pants, I run my hands over his
cock. I close my lips tight around it. He groans, and I answer when he sucks my
nub, tightening that invisible coil inside.

For everything I do to his dick, he mirrors it on my pussy.
I rub my fingers over his shaft and he pushes his thumb deep into my entrance.
I slide my tongue around his cock’s head, and he mimics the move at my clit.

As he licks me, I return the favor, running my tongue over
his hard-on, his skin warm, his mouth hot on me. For each stroke a stroke is
returned, each lick and suck replied to in kind.

The harder I suck his cock, the deeper he thrusts his two
fingers as he sucks my bud, until we both move together, our hips rocking toward
the other’s mouth.

He slides his fingers from my entrance and pulls apart my
ass cheeks, as he licks and kisses his way to that private little hole I hid
from him before. His cock hardens in my mouth the closer he gets to that tender
spot. I’m breathlessly fascinated at how his body reacts to his movement toward
that place.

When his tongue lands on that puckered spot, I start to pull
away, but his dick flexes, and he’s suddenly stiffer than I’ve ever felt him. I
pull my mouth from him, tightening my grip over his erection.

He sucks the skin around that tight, little hole, his cock
turning to steel as he does. My breath catches as he slips his tongue a little
deeper into that secret spot. Tingles radiate out as my pussy thumps with every
beat of my heart.