Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) (15 page)

              “Toss around? Sounds like fun,” he said laughing while grabbing my hips and pulling me into him.

              “You are too much, Colton Tyler Wilson. How ‘bout I text you tomorrow, and I’ll have something picked out?”

              “Sounds like a date. A second date, but a date,” he chuckled.

              “Until tomorrow, Sherlock,” I said with a kiss on the cheek.

              “Until tomorrow, Watson,” he said twisting his face for a real kiss.

Chapter 11

              I was floating on air by the time Colt dropped me off. Walking up the stairs to the front door, I stopped, turned, and with my hand on the doorframe, looked back at him.

              “Just making sure you get in ok,” he said leaning against the truck, crossing his arms over his chest.

              “I think you just like looking at my ass, Sherlock,” I said sarcastically.

              “You’re probably right about that. You do have a sweet ass though.”

              “You imply you’ve been staring at it for a while.”

              “Only the entire night; that’s all.”

              “That’s ok. I’ve been looking at yours myself, among other things,” I said with a smile.

              “Is that so, Watson? And what are these, “other things?” he said making air quotes with his hands, walking toward me.

              Climbing the steps, he was inches from my body. I could feel the energy circulating between the two of us, and it felt natural to be in such proximity. His demeanor always seemed to change when we were together. He brought out the sexual vixen in me, and I loved it. I had so much confidence when he was near.

              Not wanting him to leave just yet, I stepped closer to him as my heart was beating out of my chest.

              “Come closer; I need to tell your lips a secret,” I said motioning him with my finger.

              “I love secrets especially ones that come from your lips.”

              “Well, I have a very good secret.”

              Stepping forward, he wrapped his muscular arms around my waist pulling me close. I inhaled his masculine scent as he pressed his body into mine. He was warm and comforting, snuggled up against me.

              Leaning down to my face, “So, what’s this very good secret?”

            Raising my arms, I placed both of my petite hands on either side of his face. Pulling him towards my lips, I dove in headfirst. I kissed Colt, how I always wanted, full of passion and desire.

            “I’ve been waiting to do that for years,” I confessed brushing my lips slowly across his.

            “Years?” he questioned.

            Feeling a little embarrassed that I admitted my want; I bit my lower lip, pulling away a little.

            Immediately pulling me back, “Don’t ever pull away from me when you think you’ve embarrassed yourself. Your honesty and confidence is one of your sexiest qualities. Plus, you’re not the only one whose been waiting years.”

            Shocked at his omission, I wasn’t sure what to do or say.

            “Colt, I...”

            Breaking the awkward tension, Colt leaned down taking my lips hostage. Melting into his lips, I could stay attached for the rest of my life; he was that sinful.

            Whispering against his lips, “I should go inside now.”

            Whispering back, “As much as I don’t want you to, I know I need to let you go.”

            “Goodnight,” I said slipping into the house.

            “Sweet dreams.”

              Shutting the door, I slid down on the other side, listening to his boots crunch on the gravel as he walked back to his side of the cab. Running up the stairs, I darted into my bedroom like a teenager, looking out the window. Looking up to my bedroom window, I barely made out the wink as he ducked into the cab.
Swoon!
Turning out of the circle driveway, he waved out the window knowing I was still watching.

              Like a little kid, I did a happy dance and fell onto the bed. Putting the pillow over my mouth, I screamed my excitement into it. This night had been incredible. It over exceeded my expectations, and then some. Colt was such a gentleman when it counted, but was definitely a bad boy. If this was just a snapshot of what’s to come, I’m in T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

              I could not stop thinking of Colt’s hands resting on my hips, touching my face, and savoring each kiss. His lips were so delicate, as if he was treating me like it was my first kiss. Touching my lips, it felt good to be wanted. It felt good to be wanted by him. What the hell am I going to plan for us tomorrow? I haven’t been on a legit date in so long; I don’t know what people my age even do on dates besides go to bars and get laid. I don’t want that kind of relationship with Colt. I doubt he would want that sort of relationship either, but then again, you never know.

              Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I began to replay Colt and his aggressive and possessive behavior when we kissed. Thinking back on the night, I couldn't help but get worked up. What if we weren’t in public? Would he have stopped or thrown caution to the wind? Would I have stopped him? I couldn't think of any other answer but no. I wanted his lips all over me; his hands touching every inch of my body.

              Before I knew it, my hand had slipped below my panties and started rubbing my sweet spot.
What has gotten into you, Carr?
Just thinking of Colt undressing me with his teeth had me stroking faster. I pictured Colt’s hand doing the massaging, which turned me on even more. Arching my back and throwing the covers off, I let the moment take over me. Just knowing Colt was only minutes away had me buzzing and yearning for his touch.

              I began to imagine what Colt would do to my body, and the way he smelled pressed against my lips tonight. He smelled just like high school - Irish Spring and Tommy Hilfiger. Feeling his hands touching, groping, I finally found my release.  The release was so sweet and shook me to my core. I sat there for a minute just grinning and giggling like a lovesick puppy. Coming down from the orgasm, I pulled the covers up and over my body.

            Lying there in bed, I smiled at how things had changed since high school. I had spent countless nights “thinking” of Colt. He had a hold of my inner vixen and she was screaming to be cut loose.
Here’s to a productive second, Carr.

●

              The next morning I sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and watching Daddy chug along on the tractor.
God love that man.
He was one hundred percent dedicated to providing for our family, regardless of what was going on behind the curtains. Every year I always felt bad he had to miss the towns Tomato Festival because he had to work. It seems nothing has changed since I left. The Tomato Festival was my favorite time of the year in Avery.

              Every July Avery has its Annual Tomato Festival. It’s one time of year where all eyes focused on our small town. The town prepares all year for the festival.  During the week of the Tomato Festival, teachers would educate the kids on tomatoes, how to protect the environment, how to grow them and even had a tomato costume contest. The week would end with a giant tomato fight following the end of the parade in the middle of the town square. For one day, the kids and adults put down their issues and came together. It was also the only time of year where, it was ok to throw food at people without any repercussions.

              In elementary school, I remembered I was so proud that I was the only one in the entire class that had red hair to match my tomato costume perfectly.  I was so delighted of my costume mama made; it was the best yet. That was the last year mama made my costumes; she passed away the following year. My hair had pigtails on either side of my ears, and I had the cutest, little stalk hat.  I will always remember the feeling of winning best costume that year. Those were the good years; before the bullying started from Paisley.

              Later that week, as the town prepared for the parade and tomato fight, I was practicing throwing tomatoes at her barn. Still in my costume, I felt determined to get the perfect throw. I would wind my arm back and launch that tomato square on the bull’s eye every time.

              As kids, on the day of the parade and tomato fight, we would line up on the town streets, sit on the curbs, and waved at all the amazing floats. We would cheer for the clowns and the Shriner mini cars while inhaling warm kettle corn. Chuck and Wyatt always looked like they were enjoying the Tomato Festival Queen a little too much. Bringing up the tail end of the parade, the Queen would wave her arm like Miss America. Following the last float we would all corral in the center of town where the parade would make its resting place.

              Just like New Years Eve, the Mayor of Avery would do a countdown to the start of the fight.
Three. Two. One. Go!
Tomatoes were flying everywhere. Their gooey innards were smeared all over our faces and smashed in our hair. I specifically remember that year because I pulled back my right arm and nailed Paisley smack dab in the face. I erupted in laughter, which is probably why Paisley gives me such a hard time, but we were kids. That tomato slamming into Paisley’s face was priceless. This year, all I wanted was for someone, other than Paisley, to win Tomato Queen.

            Nominations for Tomato Queen were sent out weeks before I got home. I think I’ll nominate Harley and Skye, as a combo. I’d love to see how they handled that ballot. Every year, the queen is always someone hoity-toity who flaunts their wealth and their good looks. I’m pretty sure Paisley has been the Queen going on five years now. The rules: you couldn’t be nominated for Tomato Queen until your senior year in high school. If they let all the high school girls in, we wouldn’t have experienced the one year Betty Barnhop won. She was a spry eighty-year-old grandmother of twelve grand babies. She could talk your ear off for days. I think she was more excited about riding on the float than she was the recognition and crown. That’s how the Queen should be picked; with genuine compassion for your neighbor, and not money or clout.  I did hear stories that one year Reva Jackson won, though Paisley all but mafia chopped her ass off the throne. Those Texas pageant girls were no joke. I just couldn’t validate using an entire can of hairspray in one day. I’d be sifting through that rat’s nest for weeks.

              I won’t lie though. The thought of pelting Paisley in the face again with a tomato excited me. She may be able to cut me with words, but I’ve still got a mean pitching arm. While Paisley spent days, and nights, prepping for pageants, I was out having target practice with the barn. After I unleashed the fury inside me, I swear, I heard the faded wood crying.

Just then, my text messages chimed in.

Man of My Dreams
: Good morning, how did you sleep?

Carrington:
Well, good morning to you too. Like a baby and you?

Man of My Dreams
: Never better. What are you doing this morning?

Carrington
: I was just thinking about the Tomato Festival and pelting Paisley square in the face again.

Man of My Dreams
: I totally remember that from elementary school. Are you shooting for a repeat?

Carrington
: I had thought I’d break out the Willy Mays.

Man of My Dreams
: Atta girl!

Carrington
: I’m surprised to get a text from you this early.

Man of My Dreams
: I was too excited for the day to begin. I just had the best date with this phenomenal girl last night.

Carrington
: Oh yeah? Was she at least funny? Did she at least put out?

I’m going to hell.

Man of My Dreams
: Oh, she is funny. As for putting out, she’s classier than that. However, I can’t say I was a gentleman myself.

Carrington
: Well, I bet she’s no angel either.

Man of My Dreams
: I’m counting on that.

Man of My Dreams
: I miss her and her lips already.

Carrington
: I bet she misses you and your lips as well.