Not a Chance (11 page)

She turned red and looked down at her hands. His chest constricted with that rush of excitement that happened in the beginning stages of love. He dropped his arm from the seat to her shoulders and reached for her chin with his other hand, taking it in his fingers and turning her face toward him. Her lips were plump and red and begging him to taste them. And since she didn't object, he leaned down to kiss her.

The first kiss was soft and lightly lingering. He wanted to make sure she approved. But it wasn't enough. He shoved his hand into her hair and pulled her hard against him, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, his tongue forcing her lips apart. Her arms went around his neck. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss as all of his blood rushed out of his brain and headed due south. He reached back and grabbed one of her hands in his, bringing it down to his chest. He squeezed her hand, her soft, sweet little hand. Then he broke off the kiss and opened her hand, palm up and kissed it, burying his face in it. He licked her palm and kissed the soft, transparent skin of her wrist.

She gasped and he looked at her. He'd messed up her hair and it hung in disheveled strands in her face. Her cheeks were pink and her lips swollen from his kiss. He'd never seen anything so erotic in his life. He lunged at her and kissed her again, this time straying to her jaw and her neck. He opened his mouth wide and licked the place just beneath her jaw that smelled so good, so much like Emma. He moaned in pleasure. She was supple in his arms. He had one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand was in her hair. He let that hand wander down her neck and to her throat. He felt her tilt her head back. Listened to her breathing short and shallow.

She clutched at the front of his shirt. He grabbed one of her hands and lowered it down...down to where he was so hard he couldn't breathe for the intensity of it. "Oh, God, Emma," he moaned. He was kissing her throat, now, and then her chest, knowing her breasts were just a thin layer of fabric away from his lips. He pressed her hand against him and then reached up to cup her right breast. He squeezed it and gasped as another surge of desire shot through him. He pressed forward, burying his face in her breasts. She was backed all the way against the door of the car. He felt her trace the outline of his erection between her fingers and he groaned against her chest.

He wanted her to feel it too. He wanted to hear her cry out his name. So he let go of her breast and slid his hand up her skirt between her legs. He had barely touched her when she suddenly jerked beneath him and started shoving him away.

"Stop!" she gasped. "Stop. We have to stop!"

He stopped immediately despite every impulse in his body that told him to keep going. He was breathing like he'd run a marathon. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head and then lowered it. Her shoulders started shaking.

Up until then, he'd been frantically thinking of ways to get back to the moment they'd been in just then. But now he stopped and put his hand kindly on her back, rubbing it gently. "What's wrong, Emma?" he asked.

She sniffed and shook her head again. She put her face in her hands and then sobbed all out.

"Jesus, Emma," he said. "Please tell me what's wrong. If I hurt you, I'm so sorry."

She shook her head again and waved him away. But she was still crying too hard to answer him.

He kept his hand on her back and watched, worried out of his mind that he'd just forced her into something she didn't want. He'd been too aggressive, that was it. He'd missed her signals and gone on ahead with his own selfish desires. "I'm sorry, Emma. I wouldn't hurt you for anything in the world. Please calm down."

She seemed to start settling down. After a few more minutes, she pressed her palms into her eyes to dash away the last of the tears. She sat back and stared out the window. Her breath shook when she inhaled. He kept his arm along the back of her seat and watched her intently.

"I'm sorry, Dustin," she said. "It was just a kiss and then all of a sudden it was so much more." She turned and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling from the tears. "That was my first kiss," she said.

He lifted his brows in surprise. "Oh." He thought about it for a moment. If that was her first kiss...,"Then you've never...with anyone else, you've never..." he looked at her.

She shook her head. "Never." Then she turned back to the view. "And I want to wait until I'm married."

Dustin felt his heart sink. It was the dreaded announcement he'd hoped she would never make.

"This, just now...it all happened so fast," she said. "And the feelings were overwhelming. I've never been swept away like that. I'm really sorry, Dustin."

He nodded, still absorbing the fact that he wouldn't be having sex with Emma anytime soon.

"If this is the end of things for us, I'll understand. I just need you to know up front...this won't happen again. I wish I'd had the foresight to keep it from happening this time."

Dustin stared at her. She was so beautiful and pure. Like her tears had just baptized away the sins of moments ago. He didn't care about the purity part, though. He cared about the way she made him feel...the way he knew in that moment that he would wait as long as it took if it meant getting to have her in his life. "Okay," he said.

She looked at him. "Okay, what?"

"Okay. If you want to wait, I'll wait."

She stared at him for a long time. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

He nodded. "I might occasionally beg you to have mercy and change your mind. Because that, just now, was pretty damn amazing. For me, anyway."

She nodded. "For me, too."

He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He took her hand and kissed it. Then he sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Okay, then. I guess we just hold hands and talk."

She giggled. "Yep."

He smiled at her. "Will you be my date to the party Friday night?"

She sat up straight and smiled brightly, clearly excited. "Yes! I'd love to be your date Friday night." She practically squealed in delight.

He held her hand a while longer and they enjoyed the view in a companionable silence. Then he drove her to her house and headed home, elated at his new relationship and somewhat down about the prospect of an indefinite term of sexual frustration to come. By the time he got back to his street the reality of it sank in.

"How am I going to do this?" he murmured to himself.

Travis had bought an old car for Duane for Christmas. It required a lot of fixing up, but Travis hoped working on it together would bring them closer. Duane had a true gift for working on cars. He seemed to enjoy it too. It was the only thing the two of them seemed to have in common. Even more than Dustin who was better at driving the cars than at fixing them.

For the moment, Travis was leaning against the workbench in the garage smoking a cigarette while Duane put the hood up on the car and started changing out the spark plugs. "Where's Dustin?" Duane asked.

"Church," Travis replied.

"Why?"

"I reckon he wanted to gaze at Emma Harris from afar."

Duane laughed and shook his head. "Wuss," he mumbled.

"I guess he'll ask her out eventually."

"You guys sure can pick 'em," Duane said.

Travis didn't respond. He'd seen the kind of women Duane chose and he figured he had much better taste than his little brother.

"You've been looking kind of rough, lately," Duane said. "Guess that little rich bitch doesn't like you quite as much as you like her, right?" He was working away, not looking at Travis.

Again, Travis didn't respond. It was his only defense whenever Duane was grasping for something to bait him with.

"Did you two fuck while you were snowed in together?"

Travis sucked in an lungful of smoke, burning up nearly half the cigarette.

"Yeah, I guess she probably had fun with you for a few days, took a shower and then hopped back in bed with her rich, pretty fiancé. That sound about right?" Duane looked up at him, then, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Shut up, Duane," Travis said.

"It's tough finding out you're not as good as you thought you were," Duane said with mock sympathy. "Of course, I guess you're better than me. Back in high school, I never could get that little slut to sleep with me."

Travis flicked his cigarette to the concrete and stamped it out with the toe of his work boot. "Why are you pissed at me this time, Duane?"

"I'm not. I'm just making conversation."

"Well shut the hell up or I'm going to kick your ass."

Duane laughed. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Just like the old man. 'Shut up or I'll kick your ass.' You're a real big man, aren't you? You've come a long ways. I guess I ought to be grateful you let me work for you for slave's wages and live in your moldy basement and then beat me whenever you get pissed off about any little thing."

"Duane, goddammit! What do you want from me? I'm doing the best I can by you. What do you want?"

Duane glared at him and Travis thought he'd never seen a look of such pure hatred. Then Duane put on a wicked smirk and Travis felt his rage start to take hold before he even spoke. "So what's it like fucking a rich bitch?"

Travis barreled into him like a linebacker, lifting him off the ground and slamming him onto the concrete, flat on his back.

Dustin pulled into the driveway to find his brothers fighting like two abused, caged animals in the grass in front of the garage.

Travis was on top of Duane landing punch after punch into Duane's already bloodied face. Dustin cursed. Travis was like the Hulk when he got like this. He was freakishly strong. Dustin couldn't just pull him off of Duane. He would have to charge him as fast as he could. He got out of the car and ran and slammed into Travis's side with his shoulder, knocking him off of Duane. Travis fought blindly, kicking and swinging his fists. Dustin finally pinned him face down. He pressed his knee behind Travis's shoulder blades, holding one hand bent behind his back. Travis thrashed and snarled for another few seconds until he finally calmed.

"You okay?" Dustin asked.

Travis growled, so Dustin waited a few more moments.

He looked over at Duane. "You alright, Duane?" he asked.

Duane coughed, rolled to his side and spat out blood. Then he nodded and laughed--a silent, wheezing laugh.

Dustin hated when he did this. Travis couldn't see it, but Duane knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted Travis to lose his temper. Because he knew that for Travis, rage was like alcohol. Only he hadn't been able to break this addiction...not when it came to Duane.

Duane crawled to his hands and knees, still coughing and laughing. "You think you're so much better than me, but look at you," he said.

Travis growled and tried to shove himself up. Dustin jerked his arm up higher and Travis cried out in pain. "Shut up, Duane," Dustin said. "Get inside and get cleaned up."

Duane disappeared inside and Dustin waited until Travis's breathing evened out. "You okay?" he asked again.

Travis breathed a few more seconds. "Let me up," he said quietly.

Dustin stood and stepped back. Usually if Travis was speaking coherently, the danger was passed. But it definitely didn't hurt to be on the safe side and put some distance between them.

Travis pushed himself up to hands and knees and then slowly stood. He grabbed his shoulder, the one that Dustin had twisted, and rotated it a couple of times. He started to talk and Dustin knew he was going to apologize, so he interrupted him. "Just go inside and pull yourself together.

Travis walked around to the front door. Dustin went in via the garage entrance and slipped downstairs to where Duane was cleaning his face and assessing the damage.

Dustin watched for a few moments. Duane looked horrible. His right cheekbone was beginning to swell. His whole eye would be completely black in a few hours. His bottom lip was busted, he was limping and he occasionally winced and grabbed his side. Travis might've killed him.

Duane looked up when he saw Dustin.

"Hey," he said. "How was church?"

"Pack your things," Dustin said, ignoring his question.

"What?" Duane stood up and gawked at him.

"You heard me. Pack up your fucking things and get out of this house. You've got one hour."

Duane barked a laugh. "You can't be serious."

"I told you before. One more chance. This was it. Now get going."

"Dustin, I was just minding my own business and he just jumped all over me for no reason."

"I don't care."

"Well where exactly am I supposed to go?"

"I don't give a fuck where you go, Duane. I warned you before."

Duane looked away and shook his head. "I never had a problem with you, man."

"Shut up, Duane," Dustin said, raising his voice slightly. He was angry. Angrier than he'd been in a long time. But he wouldn't lose control. Still, he needed to say what was on his mind so he could walk away from this with a clear conscience. "You're about the dumbest person I've ever known. You've thrown away everything anyone's ever tried to do for you. You act like we owe it to you to take care of you and then you throw it back in our faces when we do. The sick thing about all of this is that I'm going to go upstairs and tell Travis I kicked you out and he's going to fight me tooth and nail. He may even beat the shit out of me like he did to you. He loves you that much." Dustin watched Duane darken with hate at the mention of Travis. "Well I don't give a shit anymore. He's the second dumbest person I know, but he always took care of me and Neil and you and now I'm going to do what's best for him and get you the fuck out of our lives. Now get to your room, pack your goddamn things and disappear."

For a second, Dustin thought Duane might attack him. But slowly the anger on his face subsided. "Fine," Duane said. "I never had a problem with you, man. But if you want me gone, that's fine. I don't need this anyway. I never asked you guys for anything. I've got plenty of friends who'll help me out."

"Fine," Dustin said. "Get going."

Duane muttered a curse as he walked by Dustin into his room.