Choices(Waiting for Forever BK 1) (18 page)

Reaching down into my backpack, I picked up the things that Richard had given me. Jamie’s eyes got wide as I set the condoms and lubricant on the floor by the mattress. When he saw them, I think he understood that I was serious about following through. Deep down, I felt guilty and, though I refused to admit it, a little scared about what we were going to do. Only seventeen years old, we were about to have sex outside of marriage; I knew that was a sin. Not only that, we were going to have homosexual sex, which apparently was an even bigger sin. The line we were about to cross was deeply marked in the sand, and we could never, ever go back.

We went to either side of the mattress and crawled naked to meet in the center. Our mouths and our bodies met as we knelt in the middle of the bed, kissing, groping. We fell sideways onto it and lay side by side, and I traced the contours of his perfect face with my fingers. He leaned forward, our lips met, and I wrapped one of my legs around his waist in my desperate need to be closer to him. I stroked his face, his hair, his shoulders, anything I could reach. Our perfectly synchronized kisses were punctuated with unrestrained sounds barely discernible above the pounding rain on the tree house roof.

Surprising Jamie by taking the initiative, I pushed him onto his back and straddled his slender hips. I loved the way he looked up at me with a mixture of wonder and lust smoldering in his sapphire eyes. Grasping my hips as I leaned forward to kiss him again, his hands then slid languidly up my sides and into my hair. Whimpering quietly into my mouth, he lifted his hips, rubbing against me. His whimpers quickly turned to breathless pants, and slowly I rocked my hips. My breathing accelerated wildly, and I could feel my heart thudding against my ribs.

As I moved from his perfect lips, the scent of his bodywash mingled with the hot, musky smell of his body as I kissed his neck. My hands shook slightly as I held myself above him, my kisses making a searing, wet trail across his shoulder. His hands moved down, rubbing my back gently as, finally, I kissed my way down his chest. I reveled in the way his nipples responded to my touch, hardening under the careful teasing of my tongue and my teeth. He was hard against my stomach.

“Jamie,” I intoned softly as his other hand slid over my stomach and then as high as he could reach on my chest, splayed over my heated skin. I moved one of my hands off his thigh and laid it over his hand on my chest, holding it there, and I was sure he could feel my heart pounding under his palm. Jamie wrapped his other arm around me, his breathing became increasingly labored, and he squeezed my ass, cupping the flesh in his strong hand. I don’t think he’d ever been quite so aggressive, but it excited me that I made him lose control.

“Oh God, Brian…,” he moaned as I rocked my hips faster, rubbing our bodies together. Pulling back slightly, he put his hand on my hip, stopping my motion. As his breathing slowed, I felt his loving kisses before he laid me down tenderly, making me feel like the most important thing in the world to him. Caressing my cheek, he gazed into my eyes, as if looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation.

He found none.

After one last kiss, he rolled away from me, toward the crate next to the bed. Opening the box, he removed one of the packaged condoms. He rolled on the first one inside out and then swore. I laughed nervously while he rolled the second one on correctly. The reality of what we were about to do was pounding in my head. The tension in my body was near the breaking point, and sweat beaded on my forehead as I waited for him to be ready.

“How should we…,” Jamie began but then trailed off, a little self-conscious. His face and chest were flushed, most likely from a combination of the heat, his excitement, and his embarrassment. I had to remind myself that even though he was older, he had no more experience than I did. Considering the different possibilities I had seen in the pictures on the Internet, I began to describe what I had seen. I wanted to make things as easy as I could; we were both so nervous.

“You could be behind me? But I…,” I started, but then it was me who was embarrassed. It was starting to become a bit awkward, and I didn’t want that. I wanted it to be beautiful, special. I wanted it to be perfect.

“But what?” he asked affectionately, pushing my damp curls back and kissing my forehead.

“I want to see your face.” He moaned softly, and his mouth moved from my forehead to kiss me, a deep, penetrating kiss. Then he pushed me back against the pillows again and took the lubricant from the crate. After popping the lid, he poured a liberal amount into his cupped palm, spilling a bit on the sheets. First, he generously smeared it over the condom, and then he nudged my legs apart with his elbows. As he used his long fingers to open me to him, I looked at the rough ceiling of the tree house.

At first it felt strange, even a bit wrong, to have someone, even Jamie, touch me like that. I tensed, and for a few minutes it felt more like an examination than lovemaking. I began to soften a little, and when I felt him add a second finger to the first, it started to burn. I felt stretched, invaded. I reached down and grasped myself. After a while, it started to feel good. So I tried to stop thinking about the guilt and the fear, focusing only on the pleasure he was giving me.

“Oh… that feels good,” I told him as I spread my legs further.

“Are you ready?” he asked breathlessly, and biting my lip, I nodded. I wanted to tell him so much more in that moment, that I wasn’t afraid, that I loved him, but the fear had crept back into my chest, and I felt strangled around my own words.

My entire body tensed as I waited for it to start, for him to make love to me. I closed my eyes so he wouldn’t see my hesitation. A cry ripped from my chest as his weight pressed down on me and almost without warning, my body accommodated his. Tears welled in my eyes at the burn and my hands balled into fists as I tried to hold on, but I had nothing to grab.

“Are you okay?” he asked and started to pull out, remorse evident in his tone, but I grabbed his hip. We’d already crossed that barrier; there was no reason for us to stop now. The pain, which was now shooting up my back, would subside in a few minutes. At least… I hoped it would.

“Just… just give me a minute,” I gasped, and everything tightened either from the fear or stress or whatever. I didn’t know what to do. The pain, the burning, was intense, and I tried to stop the tears that were welling in my eyes from falling. Jamie leaned forward, kissing me gently on the forehead. As he remained perfectly still, I felt my body start to gradually relax. Finally, the pain subsided from a sharp burn to a dull ache.

“Please… just go slow,” I requested, trying to force my body to relax. His movements were slow and tender, but quiet sounds were forced from me as we made love. A few of the tears that had been threatening to fall rolled down my cheeks as I continued to stare at the ceiling, trying not to think about the pain and the way this beautiful moment had become so uncomfortable between us.

“Brian,” he murmured as he leaned forward, wiping my tears away with his trembling fingers and kissing me. As he did, our position shifted and a warmth spread through me, like sitting before a campfire. I felt it everywhere. It started to feel good, really good. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him in that position. His damp forehead pressed against my cheek as he stopped moving.

“Right there, Jamie…. Just like that… please… please!” I implored as a tingle swept over my skin and my body responded. I didn’t know exactly what had changed or why the way he was thrusting into me made it different, but he started to move in earnest now. I moved right along with him, my hips pushing against his of their own volition. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he slid his arms under my shoulders. We were as close as two people could be, and I suddenly understood why people called it becoming one person.

This was what I’d always thought making love was all about.

The feeling was incredible, and I felt as if my heart would burst with the emotion that was coursing through me as we made love. It was beautiful and sweet, and I knew that as long as I lived, I would always remember that night, those precious moments when we were one. I would remember the cadence of the rain as it pounded on the roof, the smell of Jamie’s hair as he pressed his forehead into the pillow next to my head, and of course every moan, every grunt, and every whimper that was forced from him in the heat of his arousal.

“Oh… God… Jamie,” I whimpered as I felt my orgasm build. My body was on fire, and the harsh sounds coming from Jamie told me he was also close. His head fell onto my shoulder as I fisted his damp hair tightly with my free hand, just trying to get him closer. I needed him; I needed his love and his comfort.

“Please,” I begged, although I wasn’t sure what for, while my other hand continued to rub and stroke my erection with frenzied speed. Panting, I felt that bowstring tighten in the pit of my stomach. The muscles in my legs, my shoulders, and even my chest and neck tightened. I was right there. Finally it snapped, and even over the sound of the fan and the radio, my cry was loud.

“Oh God… God….” I clung to him as I came, the evidence trapped between our writhing bodies. I felt myself tighten around Jamie and he stilled, his body riding wave after wave of his climax. His cry muffled against my neck, he kissed it tenderly and then turned his face, pressing his forehead into my shoulder. His breathing was loud and labored in my ear as I wrapped both arms around him. Pulling back slightly, he sought my lips with his own and kissed me sweetly as he held me.

I pushed the guilt back into a corner of my mind. The line was crossed, and there was no way to go back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so close to you,” he revealed, his lips finding mine again and again. “I know I was a little nervous at first, but I wouldn’t trade how I feel right now for anything in the world.”

“I love you so much, Jamie,” I told him between tender kisses.

“I love you too,” he replied breathlessly. “Always.” He rolled onto his back, throwing the used condom into the grocery bag we used for garbage, and then he pulled me to him. I wrapped my arm around his chest, and one leg over his. Resting my head on his chest, I listened to his heart, still racing a bit as his breathing began to slow. The breeze from the fan felt good on our overheated skin, damp from our exertion. I fell asleep in his arms, never wanting to be anywhere else.

11

T
HE
scream woke me up.

At first, I thought it was one of the horrific half-remembered dreams about my parents, but it wasn’t.

Jamie and I both bolted upright and looked around wildly. After the disorientation and confusion started to clear, we saw Mrs. Mayfield’s horrified face, flushed and sweaty, transfixed as she stood at the top of the ladder. Only the top of her worn purple robe with small tufts of her floral nightgown was visible. Reaching down quickly, I grabbed the sheet from where it had been pushed to the bottom of the mattress during the night and jerked it up to cover us both, but it was too late.

The damage had been done.

Jamie’s mother had seen us, naked and entwined, sleeping in each other’s arms. The early morning sun filtering through the cracks in the closed shutters had been more than enough light to see us by. The silence, broken only by the repetitive grinding of the fan and the monotone of the voice on the radio, swelled in the confining space. I watched as her disbelieving eyes scanned the small space as if she were trying to find some kind of explanation for what she had seen. My heart jumped into my throat when her eyes landed on the bedside crate and the open condom box that was lying there.

The more Mrs. Mayfield paled, the whiter her knuckles became as she gripped the trapdoor opening. For a moment, I thought she was going to be sick or faint, but instead she began to pray. Her voice was low and rhythmic, almost like she was chanting. I caught a few words as she rocked back and forth, her head bowed and her eyes closed….

“Depraved….

My boy….

Your wrath….”

Jamie refused to look at me, no matter how long I stared at him. His terrified face was bloodless and drawn. I couldn’t tell in that moment if he was more frightened of God or his mother.

“Sinners….

Mercy….

Repentance….”

I wanted to hold Jamie, to tell him it would be okay, but I knew any display of affection toward him right now would antagonize his mother even further. As I sat there, frozen, terrified for Jamie, I reminded myself that he would be eighteen in about six months. He would be an adult, and there was nothing they could do to him, or to us. Even if they tried to separate us, we would still be together at school. We could get through this if we just held on to each other. This mental reassurance went on for a few more minutes as I tried to tune out his mother’s crazed ranting. I had to be strong now, for Jamie. He would need me while he dealt with his parents.

As Jamie continued to tremble next to me, his breathing coming in sharp gasps, I wondered what he must be thinking.
Is he worried about losing his family? Is he scared that they won’t love him anymore? Is he worried that his own mother will hate him?