Love Me ~ Like That (7 page)

“Don’t you like living around here? I think this area is beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh please, we are out in the sticks!”

Lizzie comes back in the room and Bailey picks up her purse, saying, “Well, we need to leave, Cash. I’m sorry to run you off, but I don’t get many of these kind of nights and I plan on making the most of it.”

I guess that’s my clue to leave.

Journal Entry:
Lizzie and I had a blast dancing at the club. She danced with everyone that asked. Guys were fine with that. They all loved two girls shaking their butts for them. That’s where I drew the line though. Just dancing. If they got all handsy, I’d politely remove their hands, telling them I had a boyfriend. For the most part, guys backed off, but there is always one or two that you have to get serious with. Lizzie normally takes care of them. She can be downright ballsy and has been known to throw a punch or two if she feels like we are threatened.

Hendrix sends me a text about midnight telling me he’s on his way, and I sit on the front porch because I don’t want anyone waking up when he pulls up. I love that he’s taking the time to come over to see me on his way home. It validates his desire to be with me.

When my love pulls up in front of the house, I practically break my neck getting to the car. I don’t want him to blow his horn to get my attention. I have my trusty baby monitor, so I can hear if I’m needed.

“Hey, Babe, I’m so glad you came by to see me.” I go ahead and climb in his lap because that’s where I will end up anyway.

“You are? Let me see how excited you are to see me, Sweetheart.”

I kiss him slowly, taking my time to show him he means the world to me, perusing his neck and that little place by his ear.

“That’s nice, Bailey. Now show me you are really happy to see me.” He unbuttons my shorts and tugs at them.

“Babe, you need help?” I snigger at his attempt. These are a little snug on purpose. Sitting like this doesn’t help his efforts either.

“Why aren’t you in something I bought you? You look like a redneck dressed like this. You know I like those little skirts. We don’t have this kind of problem when you’re in those.”

I should have changed, I didn’t even think about my attire. I was just excited he was coming over. He never sees me dressed like this. I’m sure it’s a shock to him.

“Did you go somewhere dressed like this?”

He looks appalled.

I’ve slipped my shorts off and I’m licking his neck. “I went dancing with Lizzie, but that’s all we did.” I say between kisses. “We danced a few hours and then came home.” I take off my tank top. Distraction is the name of the game right now.

“I don’t like you going out with her. She’s means to cause trouble.”

He sounds so stern. He’s jealous. All guys get jealous. I unbutton his shirt so I can drag my nails down his chest.

He takes one of my wrists and bends it back. “Don’t fucking go out with Lizzie, especially to clubs.”

“Ow! Hendrix, that hurts.”

He went to clubs with us in college. That is where the verbal jabs started between the two of them. Lizzie was… Let’s say a free spirit. Hendrix liked to vocalize his disgust of how much her spirit gave things away for free.

He bends my wrist a little more.
Shit!
Pain radiates down my arm, and for a split second my wrist feels like it’s about to snap. His veins pop out on his hand from gripping so hard. Then he releases my wrist inch by inch, watching for my reaction. When he releases my wrist enough that I can pull away, I clutch it to my chest. I am stunned. He has never laid a hand on me before and I’m no longer in the mood for a visit much less screwing around in a car. “Don’t ever fucking do that to me again, Hendrix.” I move to get in the passenger seat.

He grabs me by the hips. “Where do you think you’re going, little girl?” he says smiling.

He’s playful again. More like the Hendrix I know and love. He kisses my neck then runs the tip of his tongue along my collarbone.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, let me make it up to you.” He rips off another pair of Victoria Secret’s undies and rubs on me.

Instantly, my inner kink goddess says, “Hello, did someone come to play with me?”

“Give me that pussy of yours.” He puts two fingers inside of me.

I can’t believe he expects me to give him some after all of that, but dear Aunt Margaret, if I don’t start to move. I kiss him like I will never get enough.

“See, I knew you would succumb to me, Sweetheart. You need this as much as I do.”

I break our kiss and unbutton his pants. He rises up a little so I can pull his pants down. I want him inside of me. I need to ride him, hoping this time will be magical. Maybe, just maybe, he can last long enough for me? Who am I kidding? I need to make this as fast as possible in case I’m needed inside. I reach into his boxers and take out his erection, positioning it so I can slide down. He reaches down and reclines the seat all the way back. He places his hands on my hips to help me move. My mind has shut down. I’m in my zone. Nothing else matters, but getting him to his release. My toes are curling and I dig my fingers in his hair pulling it. I need faster. I need more. Maybe I can have my own. He rubs his thumb in my wetness then circles on my bundle of nerves—those achingly slow circles. I tingle, and he intensifies the pressure of his thumb. My little man in the boat throbs He rows and rows his boat, and my nipples tighten. I’m so close, but my boat doesn’t get to finish the race.

Hendrix finds his own release, and I’m squeezing him of every drop he has to offer. I let out a tiny moan of frustration, which he thinks is my release. I let him believe it so he thinks everything is kosher. He tried really hard to help me get to my pleasure point when we first got together. He would get so mad whenever I told him I needed him to push me a little further into my own release. At first, I didn’t hide that I didn’t orgasm, but I quickly learned revealing that was a problem for him.

Once he comes, he never pursues anything further which leaves me teetering on the edge of ecstasy and absolute frustration. I’ve never orgasmed with him. So my motto is fake it until you make it. After the first few times we had sex, he bought me the exerciser for doing Kegels and told me that my “twat” was the size of Bolivia, and that was the reason I could never get off with him.
When I got mad he said he was just joking, of course. I wanted to tell him if he was the size of a man and not a baby, things would be a lot easier, but I didn’t argue. Now, I just fake it. I’ll just finish the job inside. I have fresh batteries.

His head’s laying on the headrest. He’s spent now.

“Bay, seriously,” he sighs, “best car fuck ever. I knew you wanted me, you just needed to be reminded.”

I give him one more kiss, “Every time with you Hendrix is my best time ever.” I keep the disappointment out of my voice. He needs this from me. He likes his ego stroked. Climbing back over into my seat, I take what’s left of my lace panties and clean up as much as possible. I take out a plastic baggie and a couple wipes from the glove box. Needless to say, this happens a lot so he’s prepared. After I finish, I put everything in the baggie. Heaven help me if I make a mess in this car.

Hendrix treats his BMW M4 convertible better than he does me. I love his car, white with red leather interior. He babies this car, having it hand washed every couple of days. That’s why he doesn’t want to go down our gravel driveway; he is scared the car will get scratched. It is sexy, but I wish he would treat me as well as he does his car. When I asked to drive it, he totally freaked. Asshat, it’s just a car. A very nice expensive sports car!

From the monitor, I hear Papa get up. Duty calls. I slip on my shorts and shirt and hop out of the car. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

Hendrix cranks his engine, rolls his window down “Fuck it, Bailey, you never have time for me. I’m sick of this shit.” He is almost screaming at me.

“All you came over here for was a quick fuck, you got what you want, so go!” I point down the street.

He squeals his tires.

I’m left standing on the side of the road, wondering when I will learn to keep my temper down. As much as I love him, he infuriates me sometimes.

From the monitor, I hear Granny has managed to settle Papa down during our exchange. From across the street, I hear, “Does he always treat you that way?”

With the full moon, I can see Cash’s outline sitting on a tailgate. What business is this of his? Temper. Bailey, get your temper under control before you say anything. As I walk across the road, so I can talk to him without raising my voice, I wonder how much of a show he saw.

“We like to joke around,” I tell him.

Cash is drinking a beer. He reaches behind him and gets one out, offering it to me.

“No thanks, can’t stand the stuff. I do think I need something stronger though.” I laugh softly.

He pats the space next to him. “Hop up here and tell me why you need a strong one.”

He sounds so sweet. Why can’t Hendrix be this sweet? I check the light on the monitor making sure I’m still in range. “No reason other than it would help me get my Z’s. Did you have fun tonight? Get into any trouble in this big metropolis?”

“You’re right, there isn’t much to do here, but I love the peace and quiet out here when my neighbors aren’t getting their groove on in a tiny sports car.” He chuckles.

I’m glad it’s dark out here because I can feel my face flame. “Ooops, sorry about that. I’ll try not to scream out my dirty deeds from now on.” I’m embarrassed. I’m not used to anyone being over here listening to me or possibly seeing the latest episode of Southern Girls Gone Wild.

“This isn’t any of my business, but from the little bit that I know about you, you deserve better than that,” he whispers, his head really close to mine. “Is that your boyfriend, or just someone you’re seeing?”

Heaven help me, his voice sends shivers down my spine. What voodoo does he possess?

“He’s my boyfriend. We’ve been dating almost a year. He isn’t always that way.” I pause as I think of what to say next. “Are you seeing anyone?” I tell myself I’m making polite conversation here, not that I need to know or that it even matters.

“Not yet, but I plan on it.”

I bet his voice alone has girls throwing themselves at him.

“Oh? Do tell? Did you meet someone tonight?” I could sit here and listen to him all night.

“Yeah, you could say that.” He takes a pull of his beer.

“Good, everybody needs somebody.” I hop off the tailgate and wipe my hand across my butt to remove any dirt. “I need to get back across the road. My neighbor woke me up early this morning mowing the yard.” I smirk. “And Granny will get me up early to take her to church.” I yawn. I can’t help it.

“Goodnight then, it was great talking to you. Don’t be a stranger.” He tips back his beer then hops down himself.

“Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I throw my palm over my face at the childish saying I exchange every night with Granny. “Sorry, it’s late, forgive my blabbering.” Why do I continue to do this to myself? Open my mouth and spew this kind of crap?

“See you later?” he asks.

“Sure, I’ll see you around.” As I walk back to the house, my fight with Hendrix is the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe when I get out “Old Faithful” tonight, I won’t be thinking of him either. Maybe I’ll be thinking of a taller, better-built southern talker. OMG! Did I really just admit to myself Cash is much sexier than Hendrix? No, I didn’t!