Pucker Up (10 page)

“I
don’t think I can be quiet,” she finally whispered.

Dustin
ran his hands down her arms.  He circled her wrists and raised them above her
head, palms against the headboard.  “Who said I wanted you to be?”

“Peter
– ”

“Peter
can go fuck himself,” he murmured, his lips falling against the top of her
breast.  She arched her back, and his tongue licked across her nipple before
taking it into his mouth.  She whimpered but bit her lip to stifle the noise as
he turned his attention to the other one, running the pad of his thumb over her
breast until her arousal was painfully clear.

“Let’s
get that heart rate on the rise.”  How could he think coherently enough to sing
right now?  Desire she was sure she’d drowned sparked to life at his simple
touch.  Her body vibrated as his hand swept down her torso, long confident
strokes making stops just under her breasts, against her ribs, right over her
hipbone.  His lips followed, nipping at the skin as he went, coaxing reluctant
yelps of encouragement out of her with his mouth before stopping just below her
belly button.  His breath fanned across her stomach, lips sucking the sensitive
skin there. 

“Might
be time to try you on for size.”  His voice cracked, and she closed her eyes,
unable to handle it any longer.  She couldn’t reconcile this devilish man above
her, singing the double entendres of her youth and actually meaning them, with
the gruff adult that had wanted her as far away from him as possible.  His
tongue started to dip lower, making intricate patterns against her skin, and
she no longer cared; he felt too good, too familiar, to worry.

He
pressed the palm of his hand against the juncture of her thighs, kneading
against her.  She writhed with wanting, her hips rising up against his touch. 
His finger slipped inside, stroking more intimately; all she could do was gasp,
panting silently as the pressure increased.  Teasing her by never getting close
enough to exactly where she needed him to be, skirting the edge of commitment.

“Eyes
front, don’t forget to keep your eyes on the prize.”  Words spoken right against
her neck, perfectly in time with his fingers, one buried inside of her, one stroking
her breast.  He was playing her body like a guitar, lightly until he found the
right chord.  His finger pressed down inside of her for just the briefest of
seconds before retreating, and her body strained against him, chasing the
sensation.  His lips skimmed across the curve of her jaw, falling against her
clavicle as she writhed beneath him.  He raked his teeth against her skin in a
quick, sharp movement as he massaged her nipple, forcing her eyes open, feeling
the sensation all the way down her body just like he knew she would. 

He
laid a trail of kisses against the exposed column of her neck ever so slowly. 
Her anticipation grew with every touch of his lips, punctuated by his throaty
attempt to finish the song.  “Puh-Puh-Puh-Puh-Puh-Puh-Pucker up.”  He drew her
leg up over his hip at the direction, placing her exactly where he wanted her
as he slipped inside her.

Her
breath caught as he rocked into her, remembering exactly how he felt, never
actually able to forget.  “Sing for me, Ally.”  She was helpless to resist him
as he started to move.  She shrieked, one long note she hadn’t hit for a long
time.  He kissed her gruffly, stealing her moan for himself, before releasing
her lips and entwining their fingers, encouraging her with every plunge.

She
was louder than her clamoring heart, than the bed, than they’d been before. 
She didn’t care.  Not as he looked down at her with desire-darkened eyes, his
muscles tight and glistening as he strained against her.  Not as he groaned,
the guttural sound she’d missed, making her feel strong and powerful.  She rolled
her hips, disrupting his rhythm but drawing him in deeper, and his control
slipped.  It was all she needed to see to fall over the edge, remarkably fast,
faster than she’d ever been.  One last high note, torn out of her as she
climaxed, the sound dragging Dustin over right along with her. 

She
closed her eyes again, trying to regain some composure.  All she could think
was how well their bodies still fit together.   They’d written a song together,
one she wasn’t going to soon forget.

Dustin
rolled off of her but kept one hand holding hers, one thumb lightly stroking
the inside of her wrist.  “You remember…the first time we…” Faith panted.

He
shifted to look at her.  “Uh huh.”

“When
I said…that…”

“Practice
makes perfect.”

“Yeah,”
she nodded.  “I think you can stop.”

He
chuckled, his lips whispering in her ear.  “And here I was thinking I was just
getting started.”

Dustin
stared at the ceiling, watching the sunlight break across it.  He hadn’t slept
a wink, just had lain beside Faith, listening to her breathe and waiting for
his mind to quiet.  His gaze wandered to the pile of lumber in the corner.  He
hadn’t even started Harmony’s window seat.  Usually by now his mind was numb
from manual labor, so exhausted even his thoughts didn’t have enough energy to
keep him awake.

He
should have been tired.  He’d kept Faith up for hours, burying himself in her
instead of his buzz saw.  Peter was going to kill him for that, but damn, he
had forgotten how much that voice affected him.  He enjoyed hearing her sing,
but he also just loved listening to her speak.  Her sound unlocked a piece of
him, making him nauseatingly sentimental.  With that voice, nothing she told
him could ever be bad.

She’d
never told him they had lost a girl.  Knowing Faith, she’d surely named her the
minute she found out.  They’d had a daughter, and he didn’t even know her
name.  She’d never said anything.

She
never said anything.  The doctor told them the news; they cried.  Not together
though.  She cried; he held her, trying to be strong.  He cried after, in the
bathroom, where no one could see.  It had taken years and two girls with
pigtails before he realized they weren’t mutually exclusive.  You could be both
soft and strong – Peter did it every day.

He’d
taken Faith home, held her hand as he drove, and she’d never said a word. 
She’d been silent as he tucked her into bed, as he lay down beside her, as he
whispered his love against her hair.  Not a sound from her lips when he found
her loading things into the car, when he screamed at her to stay, when her car
peeled out of the driveway.  He remembered getting his keys from the house and
seeing the marriage license torn into pieces, thinking how he could stop his
life from crumbling apart if he could only catch her.

The
next thing he remembered was waking up in a hospital room, in pain.  It wasn’t
the pelvic fracture or broken arm that hurt the most; it was meeting Peter’s
eyes and knowing she wasn’t at his bedside.  She’d haunted him ever since,
constantly eluding him.

Now
he’d caught her, if only for a moment.  He had no idea what happened now.  Just
like when they were young, he was so ignorant of what came next.  The girls’
bedtime story was all the thought he gave it, and there was nothing of reality
there; time stopped after the happily ever after.  He’d spent so much time
thinking about rewriting the past he had no idea what to do with the present.

She
shifted next to him, waking up.  “What was her name?” he asked.

“Meyer,”
she murmured, not needing him to elaborate. 

“Damn
it, Faith.  How could you not tell me?”

“I
knew for maybe thirty hours.”

“No,”
he said, turning to look at her.  “You knew for ten years.”  She refused to
meet his eyes, and he sighed, getting out of bed and pulling on his discarded
jeans.

“What
do you want me to say?”

“What
do I want you to
say
?!  I don’t know, Faith; let’s try anything at all.”

“That
day was really hard on me.”

“Yeah,
and it was a walk in the park for me.” 

She
inhaled sharply at his sarcasm.  “It killed me knowing that.  Why would I do
that to you?  Willingly inflict pain…”

“You
don’t think I was in pain?  You obviously weren’t paying attention.”  He pulled
his shirt over his head and turned to the bed.  Part of him ached to join her,
swollen lips and heavy-lidded stare, desire sitting jauntily across the surface
of her skin.  Part of him ached to save her, looking lost and disheveled, a
little bit broken.  Part of him ached to rail at her, to release the ball of
agony that sat upon his chest.

Anger
won.  “But that’s right; all you ever cared about was you.”

Her
eyes flashed fire, and he felt both elation and sorrow for putting it there.  “What
a novel sentiment.  Personally, I can’t believe you lasted eighteen hours
before pulling out that tired refrain.”

“Must
have been too distracted with your sudden appearance to think straight.  I’ll
do better next time.  Mind filling me in on why you’re here yet?”

Faith
pulled the covers more tightly around her.  “I told you I was just passing
through.” 

“Just
passing through, right.  Took you a decade to fit that into your pop star
schedule.  But obviously I was mistaken about your priorities?”

She
scowled.  “It doesn’t even matter what I say.  Because you never trusted me
enough to actually hear me.  I’m sure you’ve concocted lots of nefarious
ulterior motives for me being here anyway.  You’re the one with the wild
imagination.”

He
growled, a laugh nowhere near humorous.  “Yeah, I imagined everything, didn’t
I?  Your career was the most important thing to you.  More important than us,
definitely more important than me.”

“That’s
untrue.  And unfair.”

“Really? 
How do you remember it then?  Because I remember my wife taking a knife to our
vows and my heart the same night our child died.  But hey, sorry my affection
was too much of a burden for you.”

“That
isn’t – ”

“No,”
Dustin said, reaching the end of his rope and stalking across the room to the
door.  “I waited ten years.  Ten years to hear what you had to say for
yourself.  And I just don’t care anymore.  Nothing you say is going to change
anything.  You left me.  You left me on one of the worst days of my life.  That
says it all.”

Faith
started shaking the minute the door slammed behind Dustin, like a leaf in the
wind.  Some things had changed in the last ten years, some hadn’t – he still
didn’t fight fair.   Their relationship had been far from perfect; their love
hadn’t.  She thought she was doing the right thing, the noble thing, by leaving,
but maybe she’d gotten that all wrong.  Maybe her grief had prevented her from
seeing what was really there.

There
was a knock at the door, and she jumped, too lost in herself.  “Don’t come in. 
I’m not dressed.”  Oh crap, she didn’t have any clothes.

“There’s
a bathrobe in the closet,” the teenage voice said.  Faith got out of bed, wiping
the tears from her eyes and attempting to look closer to composed.  She slid
open the closet and found a fuzzy pink bathrobe.  It was obviously meant for
someone smaller but it adequately covered all the parts she wanted to
permanently lock away.

“Okay,
come in.”

Harmony
opened the door, peering into the room with a tentative air that felt at odds
with her bright smile.  When she noticed they were alone, she entered completely. 
“I brought you these.  Thought you might need them.”  Faith looked at the
clothes in her outstretched hands and felt oddly touched.  “Better than staying
in that bathrobe all day I think.” 

Harmony
walked as they talked, peering around the room as if something more fascinating
than a half-dressed pop star was hiding in it.  “Thank you,” Faith said.  “I’ll
put these on.”  She made her way into the bathroom and closed herself inside. 
It didn’t stop Harmony’s voice from filtering through.

“I
had to go pull some of Mom’s old clothes out of the attic, but they should fit
reasonably well.  Melody’s clothes would probably have fit – you saw her, you
guys are about the same size – but when she’s at school the only things she
leaves here are pajamas and prom dresses.  I didn’t think either would fit the
occasion.  They’d make for a pretty good laugh, but no one seems much in the
mood to laugh today.”

Faith
stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing the clothes against her skin as she
tuned out the idle chatter.  She remembered this look – quintessential
cowgirl.  A pair of worn jeans, a little tight in the hips and gaping a bit at
the waist.  A snug white camisole under a blue flannel shirt.  The only bra she
had was black, so she left it with her other discarded garments.  She glanced
at them, piled on the floor, and felt revulsion just looking at them. 
Yesterday felt a million miles away.

“But
Mel says that’s just my overactive imagination.  Like it’s a bad thing.  I say
there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having an overactive imagination – life
would be positively sleep-inducing without one.  And really, it’s better than
having an overactive bladder.”  Faith pasted a smile on her face and opened the
door, wanting to put as much distance as she could between her and her clothes,
her reflection.  Harmony was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at the
door she’d come out of.

“Did
you say I met your sister?” Faith asked. 

Harmony’s
eyes narrowed at her puzzled expression.  “Yeah.  When Uncle Dust went to visit
her at school.  She got autographs from you and Madison Duncan.”

Faith
couldn’t hide her surprise.  “Oh.  The blonde with the purple streaks in her
hair.  I thought that was his girlfriend.”

Harmony
laughed, almost falling on the floor.  “Ew, no.  No, no, no.”  Her eyes turned
pensive as she quieted down.  “Well, I can maybe understand why you thought
that though.  Their age difference is eleven years.  Mom and Dad were nine
years, so theoretically, it could happen.  Probably more regular in LA.  But
again, ew, no.  Plus, Uncle Dust doesn’t have a girlfriend.” 

Faith
heard the meddling in the teenager’s voice and tried to hold her tongue.  The
best she could manage was not looking up as she inquired lightly, “He doesn’t?”

“Nope. 
Not at all.  Nada.  Zip. Zilch.  I swear, he’s almost as bad as Dad is.”

“So
just a house of unattached men then?”

“Believe
me,” Harmony said, collapsing back against the comforter, “it is
not
for
lack of trying.  Those Andrews men are just stubborn as mules.”

“Your
trying or their trying?” 

The
mischief was back in her eyes.  “Mine of course.  If we leave it up to them, they’re
so bloody minded they’d blind themselves to prove the sun don’t shine.”

Faith
couldn’t hold back a smile at that.  God, she hadn’t heard that insane phrase
in years.  This girl had been indoctrinated – she was an Andrews, through and
through.

“You
don’t have to have a girlfriend or a boyfriend to be happy,” Faith said. 

“I
know that.” Harmony laughed, jumping up from the bed.  “But you can’t deny
sometimes it makes it a lot easier.”  With that the girl flounced out the door and
left Faith with a quizzical look on her face. 

Melody
rubbed her eyes as she grabbed her phone, startled awake by the incessantly
loud demand for a video chat.  “Gee Harm, couldn’t you have waited until – ”

“They
hooked up!  They hooked up and then had a passionate lovers' quarrel.  I cannot
believe you are missing all of this!”

Melody
frowned, wondering for a moment if she was still asleep.  “Stop being
ridiculous.  What book are you reading again?”

Harmony
sighed, frustrated.  “I am not imaging things.  This actually happened.”

“And
you know this how?”

“They
were loud.  Like really loud.”

“You
heard what they were arguing about?” Melody asked.

Harmony
looked a bit uncomfortable.  “That was
not
the part that was loud.”

“Ew.”
Melody grimaced.  “I definitely don’t want to talk about that.”

“Good,
me neither,” Harmony said before sighing, “but Dad totally will.  Ugh, that’s
gonna be just great.”  Her face turned impish.  “Actually, I know exactly how
to make it that way.”

“What
are you going to do?” her sister asked.

“What
I do best, be cheeky.”  They laughed.

“So
did you hear what they were fighting about?”

“No,”
Harmony said.  “But it’s not from lack of opportunity.  They have been fighting
since the minute she showed up yesterday.”

“Well,
if she’s Ally, that story was not without adversity.  Reality probably didn’t
end nearly as well.”

“They
could barely stand to be in the same room together last night.  I have no idea
how they ended up in the same bed.”

“The
opposite of love is not hate,” Melody said.  “Those emotions are closer
together than you might think.”

“Well,
if they don’t get her car fixed soon, I’ll be having a master class in it.  Or
need to find my noise-cancelling headphones.”

“Sorry,
Nancy Drew, but you’re not gonna like the resolution to that mystery.” Melody
leaned over and grabbed a carrying case from her bedside table.  “You lent them
to me for studying in the library, remember?”

“I
am way too nice.”  Harmony changed the subject with lightning speed.  “Did you find
anything out from internet research yet?”

“No,
I was studying all night.  I was going to do it this morning, but since your
gossip woke me up…”

“Okay,
Mel, I can take a hint.  Of course, the only reason I am taking it is because
we both have work to do.  You with the power of Google; me with the power of
ultimate sneakitude.”