Friday morning, Vaughan sat out on the back patio steps, basking in the sun, playing his guitar. No shirt on, which was definitely my preferred attire for his upper body. Same went for the lower. A pad and pen were at his side, like last night. I remembered it all … vaguely.
Did he really say he was going to miss me? Maybe he had and it didn’t mean anything major. You could run out of ketchup and miss it without a crushing sense of deprivation overwhelming your life. It was, after all, just a condiment. I might well be the current pick of the condiments in his life. But he’d still eat a hamburger without me.
A terrible analogy, I know. But quite possibly true.
At any rate, I couldn’t think about it right now. Literally couldn’t. Any usage of the brain was bad. Inside my skull, things throbbed and hurt. I threw down two Advil with a bottle full of water and made a cup of coffee while trying not to think of anything. Only, trying not to think of anything was just as bad as focusing on something, and the malevolent organism in my head took it as a declaration of war.
Pain, so much pain.
Maybe not drinking anything with an alcohol percentage for a while was the way to go. Also, Eric must die. Enablers were bad, evil people. The world must be purged of them.
I hid behind my sunglasses, sitting at one of the few remaining dining room chairs (several had fallen during the great fight) and listened to him playing through the open kitchen doors. Thank god for coffee. Coffee understood. Coffee was my friend.
Merrily, the drugs were at long last beginning to kick in when he noticed my presence.
“Morning.” He shifted his position, all the better to see me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a good view.
“Hi.”
“How you feeling?”
“Like Long Island Iced Teas are not my friend.”
He inspected me over the top of his sunglasses. “Shit, you were drinking those? No wonder you were smashed.”
“One Old Fashioned, one lychee martini, one Caipirinha, and one Long Island Iced Tea.”
“So you had four cocktails,” he said. “Last night you told me three.”
“Did I? Huh.”
He gave me a look that was most dubious.
“I’ve decided I have no further statement to make about last night.”
“Have you now?” His tongue played behind his cheek. No idea what expression filled his eyes; he’d retreated back behind his shades. Probably for the best.
He gave up the sun and came inside, carrying his guitar in one hand and a pad and pen in the other. All of it got dumped on the kitchen table.
“Working on a new song?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, sitting down across the table from me. “It’s called ‘You Say Funny Shit When You’re Drunk.”
“I like it. Sounds like a winner.”
“Yeah. It’s going to be by the Devil Dick and Demon Tongue Band.” He took off his sunglasses, placed them on the table. “What do you think?”
“That’s the name of the new band? Sweet.”
“Classy, right?”
“Totally.” I suppressed my smile, just barely. Funny bastard. I swirled the dregs of my coffee around in the cup. “Do you have any plans for today?”
“No, nothing today.” He stared out the open kitchen doors at the world beyond. The large broken panel of glass had been replaced sometime yesterday. “I, ah, I accepted an offer on the house.”
My face froze. “You did?”
A nod.
“Wow. That was fast. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s a great property.”
High up on the wall, the kitchen clock was ticking. I don’t know if I’d really noticed it before, but now … damn, it was loud.
“You’re happy with the price?” I asked.
“Very.”
“Great.” I smiled, trying my utmost to be happy for him. Just like a friend would be. “That’s … that’s really great.”
Odd how he didn’t smile back. Instead, he kept staring out at the backyard, face betraying no emotion. It was his parents’ place. Whatever his issues over accepting their death, giving up his childhood home had to hit hard. All those memories.
“When are you thinking of leaving town?”
“Henning and Conn want to get started putting together the new material soon as possible.” He grabbed at the back of his neck. “So early next week, I guess.”
“That soon?”
“Yeah.” His gaze zeroed in on me. “Is that a problem for you, with your stuff and all that, Lydia?”
“No.” I looked down, trying to get a handle on … well, me. It felt like my little world had been turned upside down and been shaken to shit. The perfect scene in the snow globe was a blizzardy mess. What the hell was my problem? None of this should be a surprise. “No. I’ll get storage sorted out in the next few days. Not a problem.”
“So you’re still thinking of staying?”
“Maybe.” It was my turn to look away, to avoid his eyes. Such a perfect shade of blue. I’d just have to avoid looking up at the sky for the rest of my life so as not to be reminded of him. Completely doable. “So, early next week. What are you thinking, Monday, Tuesday?”
“Something like that.”
I nodded and tucked my mass of bed hair back behind my ears. Then I messed it back up again because exposing myself right now was plain dumb. “Well, it’s great that you got a big offer on the house right away. Just great.”
“Mm.”
“I should go shower. Make some small attempt to look less like the undead.”
“Hey,” he said. “Did you want to go check out some cars today?”
“Yes, that would be good. Thanks.” I rose, my legs feeling bizarrely flimsy, weak.
The great thing about crying in the shower was that with all of the noise and water, there was no real evidence.
No one need ever know.
* * *
“See, babe. Isn’t this nice?”
I gave him an unimpressed look. Not an easy feat, given how good he looked. With the window down, his golden-red hair blew wild in the wind and a toned inked arm leaned on the door frame. He was like an ad for the good life.
“Come on, you have to admit this is a great car.”
I didn’t have to admit a damn thing.
“Lydia, this is the right choice,” he said smoothly. “Comfortable interior, high safety standards, handles well in wet weather and snow, and it even has a small sunroof just for you.”
“You’re being condescending. Stop it before I hurt you.”
“I know you like that piece of shit Prius and the cute little MINI Cooper.” He reached out, slipping a hand behind my neck and massaging gently. Dude was lucky I didn’t bite off his limb. If he wasn’t so good with his fingers, I would. “But the WRX will work out far better for you, I promise.”
“I didn’t even want to take it for a test drive. You and that idiot ganged up on me.”
“Babe.”
“It’s true. You know you did.”
“I had no idea Mitch even worked there,” he said with a laugh. A devious one. “Is it really so bad that me and my old friend want you to have an awesome car at the best price possible?”
“It is a good price.”
“It’s a fucking amazing price and you know it. You’re supposed to be test-driving it, not me.” He pulled into a gravel parking lot in a secluded spot by the lake, switched off the engine. “Fastest line-built vehicle on the market, Lydia. You know you want to try it.”
“It probably got thrashed by its previous owners.”
“No way would Mitch sell you something that’d been treated bad. I’d come back to Coeur d’Alene to kick his ass if he did, and he knows it.”
“God, would you stop talking about leaving?” I snapped. And immediately regretted it.
Vaughan cocked his head.
“Sorry.” I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Apparently, I’m Ms. Bad Attitude today. Let’s just enjoy the here and now. Okay?”
He slowly nodded his head. Then he gazed back out the windshield at the sparkling blue water. “You wanted the Vaughan Hewson Coeur d’Alene experience.”
It took a moment for my poor brain to catch up. “This is where you brought your dates when you were in school?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nice. Very nice.”
“Far enough out of town, away from the lights. The whole sky would be full of stars.”
“Mm.” I smiled wistfully. “Sounds romantic. Too bad it’s daytime.”
“No one’s around.”
I turned my head so fast we both should have gotten whiplash. “What?”
“No one’s around.”
“Ha.” I smiled, raised my eyes to the heavens. “God, I thought you were serious there for a minute.”
“I am.” He was? Shit. He was. Beautiful blue eyes all intense and heated, looking at me and licking his lips like I was definitely at the top of today’s menu.
“Oh.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers down my neck. Toying first with the spaghetti strap of my blousy white top and then with my bra beneath. The man had moves. But also, he basically had me on a leash, the bastard. Mind, body, heart, and soul. Not that I’d ever tell him. Immediately my breathing picked up pace, my skin grew all shivery.
“Lewd acts. Exposure.” I giggled hysterically, sounding a lot like an idiot. “I’m pretty sure there are laws protecting public places against that. Especially in broad daylight. We better not.”
“We’re not going to get caught.”
“But we might.”
“We won’t.” He slipped both straps off my shoulder, exposing more skin. In the smoothest of moves, he unclipped his seatbelt and then moved directly on to releasing mine. But the man wasn’t done. Oh, no. There would soon come a day when he would be done with me, but it wasn’t this one.
“Hold on.” He twisted and rose up. With a knee on his seat, he reached right across me. Things were fiddled with on the side of my seat, and all of a sudden the back was way back and I was staring directly up at the beige car ceiling. Out the open window, a tree swayed overhead. Green leafy branches rustled in the wind. Lots of nature. Now and then the sun broke through, a dazzling shaft of light from the heavens above.
Did the sun have to be so bright? We were going to get caught for sure. Also, cellulite did best under soft or no lighting. Try as I did to accept my body, this sort of shit remained a concern.
“Um,” I said, because my brain was still in genius mode. “I’m not sure this is safe.”
“Car’s stationary and I’ve got a condom in my back pocket. We couldn’t be safer.” Without further ado, he climbed on top of me, his hips situated between my legs. An elbow to my side near the top of the seat took the bulk of his weight. Still, the feel of his body on mine sent tremors of excitement racing through me. Red alert, illegal and possibly embarrassing, but very good times ahead. I gripped the sides of my chair like I was on a roller-coaster and a loop de loop was coming up. Yet all the while, my vagina prepared to party like it was 1999.
Fuck. I was so confused. “We have a bed at home. I mean, at your place.”
Low laughter from the deviant. “Yeah, but I have you all turned on right here. Why wait?”
“I’m not really turned on.”
“Nipples.”
I looked down. They were indeed twin hard points, all too obvious beneath the thin cotton of my top. Talk about betrayal. “They know nothing.”
“Hey. You really want me to stop?” He stared deep into my eyes, seeing the panic in my soul. I could feel it, his understanding, his concern. And not just over the public exposure sex thing. Let’s be honest here. My current freak-out had way more to do with the creeping dread of him leaving and the fear regarding the state of my muddled heart.
“Babe?”
His face was so close. Lips just barely touching mine, the heat and beauty of him setting me on fire. I could feel him hardening against my stomach, reacting to me. My need fed on his, growing by the moment.
“Say the word,” he continued. “You know I’ll do whatever you want.”
I wanted to call bullshit on that so badly. Or better yet, tell him exactly what I wanted. Just as soon as I figured out exactly what that was.…
Instead I craned my neck, kissing him gently, sweetly. Over and over with lips closed, then with them open just a little. On this went until his tongue eased into my mouth, taking me over. We kissed in slow motion as if we had all the time in the world. The palm of his hand molded to my breast, squeezing and teasing the sensitive flesh. My hands meanwhile slipped beneath his tee, exploring his back. Stroking his smooth skin, coming close to getting off on the feel of him. The ridges in his spine and the hard planes of his muscles. All the while, he moved against me, rubbing his hard dick over my pubic bone, stroking close to the top of my sweet spot. I angled my hips, trying to get more.
Shit, it felt good. So good. But it wasn’t enough.
“Vaughan,” I panted, slipping my hands down into his jeans, squeezing his firm ass cheeks. “No underwear?”
“I wanted to be prepared.”
I grinned as he lightly bit my earlobe, then licked my neck.
It could never get old, being with him. Every intimacy we shared added to the familiarity of his body and his ways. The thrill of being with him, however, never waned. Given time, it might change and grow. But never would it disappear. Some things just were absolute.
I slipped my hands between us, unbuttoning his jeans and lowering his zipper. Demure, I was not. Or at least, not once we got going. Getting that item of clothing right the hell out of my way. Hot velvet skin over rigid flesh. He was a tactile heaven. My fingers brushed over the rounded head, thumb searching out the join in the ridge of his cockhead and massaging just beneath.
He groaned into my neck, shoulders heaving. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Ah, the power of getting your hand on a man’s cock. It was mighty. “Does it?”
“Mm.”
A hand pushed up my chambray skirt, exposing my dimpled thighs. Screw any anxiety. I was too caught up in the goodness of touching Vaughan to care. He slipped a finger into the leg opening of my panties, tugging at the material.
“Why the fuck are you wearing these, Lydia?”
“Because I’m a fool?”
He chuckled.
“I didn’t know what you were planning,” I complained.
“Assume I always want to fuck you. That would be safest.”
His mouth covered mine and he kissed me deep and wet. Mutual masturbation worked well. I fondled and caressed his cock, doing my best to drive him insane. While he did likewise, curling in his fingers and sliding his knuckles through my wet slit. Every muscle between my neck and knees tensed, it felt so good. The boy gave me bliss, pure and simple. Then he broke the kiss and licked the pad of his thumb before going to work on my clit. God, he was good at this, his touch just right. His hand stretched the elastic in my panties, making room for him to play. Happy chemicals made my head spin round, my whole world was in a daze. I almost forgot to keep stroking him. Sad, because the feel of him thickening in my hand was sublime. Not something I’d ever want to miss.
“Cum on me.” I nipped at his lips.
“That what you want? You want my cum on your soft skin?”
I nodded my head, milking him harder with every stroke.
“No. Not this time.” He pulled his hand out of my panties, a crying shame. Then he drew the condom out of his back pocket and ripped it open with his teeth. I made a truly sad sound when he pried my fingers off of his cock and rolled it on.
“Scoot your ass down a little,” he said, drawing me closer to the edge of the seat. “Why couldn’t you want a bigger car?”
“Why couldn’t you cum on me?”
The sides of his lips hitched up. He pulled aside my stretched underwear and carefully lined his cock up with my opening. In one smooth thrust he filled me, both of us moaning. Loudly.
“Oh god.” My eyelids fluttered, my insides doing the same. Indescribable. That’s what having him inside of me felt like. Every good thing, everything bright and shiny. But more, so much more. And the way he looked at me, studying my every expression, gauging my every move. I don’t know why, but having such total committed focus from him nearly undid me. I almost cried for the second time today.
“That’s why I couldn’t cum on you,” he whispered in my ear. “Because I needed to do this.”
I had no words. Happily, none was required.
Slowly, deliberately, he made love to me. Crammed into the passenger side of a test vehicle which now definitively must be mine. Of all the places to have a meaningful moment. He rocked in and out of me, taking his time, building the passion between us. Our connection was absolute and always would be. No matter where he went. No matter what he did. I’d lost a part of myself to him that I’d never get back. Hell, I gave it, even knowing it wasn’t smart and I might regret it one day soon.
Hearts are so stupid.
Gradually he increased his pace. My legs were wrapped around him, holding on tight. Sweat soaked both our skins. We moved as best we could, reaching for the peak, clinging together. It went on and on, and yet was over all too soon. I angled my hips up, taking him deep. He plowed into me with great purpose. One hand tangled in my hair and the other taking some of his weight. The sound of our frantic breathing, of our bodies slamming together filled the small space.
And still it surprised me. My orgasm ripped out my lungs. I silently cried out, my cunt clutching at him as my heart skipped a beat. My whole body shook beneath him as he groaned my name, pressing his cheek bruisingly hard against mine. Apparently, the French refer to an orgasm as the little death. However, that didn’t cover it. Try the mass murder of all of my hopes and dreams. It shouldn’t have felt so astonishingly mind-numbingly superb to fall for a man who’d never be mine. But it did.
Love sucks.