I move to take more of her mouth, readying to slide a hand up her dress when she tenses.
“Put me down now, firefighter,” she says suddenly with closed off eyes and I curse, reluctantly letting her slide.
“Want you back in my arms,” I grunt, brushing my hair off my face. “Want to lick your little tongue again.”
Raye shakes her head and frustration blows up in me, a primitive one, making it difficult to speak and I gravel, “You. Me. Date. Now.”
“Trent...” she begins, when I take out the three matches that I found at the shed out of my pocket and her eyes round, mouth dropping and her hands start trembling.
“These yours?” I ask, watching her reaction intently and she cries,
“No!”
“No seems to be your favorite word.”
Her eyes flare. “Is this blackmail?”
If it has to go do that, I’ll do it. She has no idea how long I’ve searched for her. And she was never that far away to begin with, her small house on the other side of town from mine.
“It means that this isn’t over,” I answer. “You and I are not over, sunray.”
We’ll never be over.
“You want me to leave?” I finally ask and she nods with sullen eyes. “You want to give me a kiss good bye before I do?”
She sullenly shakes her head and I ready to leave when she lets out a needy cry, digs her short nails into my shoulders and attacks my mouth.
Proving what I just said. Not. Over.
4
Raye
It’s been two hours since Trent left my porch. My emotions are in turmoil as I put on my waitress uniform, short black skirt and short black apron. Dragging a brush through my hair, I put it up in a ponytail. The daisies are out because once I left them in and the boss barked at me that they could fall into the customers drink.
Trent seemed to like them though. Just like he seemed to like all of me and my butt cheeks are still achy from his thorough pawing, my lips so plumped and naturally red now that I don’t need any makeup. I don’t know why he’s so obsessed me but I know it’s not good. He’s a firefighter and on top of it he found the matches...
I know I encouraged him with the kiss but I couldn’t help it. He makes endorphins race through my body, he knows how to touch me, kiss me and it all comes so naturally to him. It’s like he knows how to do everything right, how to make me respond in ways I didn’t even know I could respond.
He said that he and I are not over and I bite my lip at the thought of him coming by my house again.
If he does then I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep him on the porch when all I wanted to do was to drag him inside, rip his clothes off, straddle him and...and then what? I wouldn’t know what to do. I would just like linger there over his hips, I guess until he guided me right. But it’s better if he doesn’t come by.
In theory at least. In real life the thought of him never touching me again makes me want to rip my hair off and scream. Sometimes guys have asked me out. I always shake my head and run away. Because I don’t feel anything for them, they don’t excite me like the sun god does.
My aunt thinks I’ll never settle down and she’s right. I never will. Unless Trent asks me to marry him and makes me Mrs. West. But being married to someone requires knowing the truth about that person and Trent can never know the truth about me.
Blowing away a hair strand, I pick my tray and make my rounds asking for orders and I grit my teeth when I get pinched in the butt. If Trent saw that he’d probably blow through the roof because that’s the kind of guy he is. Earthy, no nonsense and straight talking. A little bit like me. Maybe that’s why I feel so connected to him?
More customers keep coming into the bar that’s at the edge of town. Frankly it’s not that nice here, black painted walls, leather couches that look like they were bought years ago and there’s always a ton of glass on the floor. But it’s popular, not only because it opened recently but because everyone love to stare at the girls working here.
Including me and I sigh when a couple of customers stare at me like their eyes are about to fall off. They don’t look at me the way Trent does. He takes in every little detail and his eyes fixate like he loves every single one. Even the scrape on my knee, the freckles on my shoulders. But my favorite thing is that whenever I touch him, his hips jut in a move that makes me wild for him.
“Still got your v-card in tact?” Jojo, one of my colleagues asks beside me. She looks me up and down, her eyes tightening a little, “You look different.”
“I do?” I ask and my heart speeds up. Can people really tell that today I was kissed within an inch of my life and nearly lost my virginity through my clothes?
Jojo nods, then looks at me with a flicker of envy. “Whoever he is he must’ve banged you real good for you to be looking like that.”