Risk (Gentry Boys #2) (11 page)

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit self-conscious that once again Creed was able to bust right through any wall of propriety I tried to put up. 

“Nothing.  I don’t need to ask permission to look at you.” 

I rolled my eyes.  My hands fumbled over the buttons of my shirt as I got everything back where it was supposed to be.  I looked outside but saw only empty darkness beyond the steamed up windows.  My legs were a little cramped.  Creed watched as I climbed off him and smoothed my skirt out. His pants were still wide open.  He didn’t seem to mind.

“You want to know something?” I blurted. 

“About you?  Yes.”

I bit my lip.  “There was a time in my life when it wouldn’t have bothered me at all to climb into the backseat of a car the way we just did.” 

He frowned slightly.  “Does it bother you now?”

I shook my head.  “No.  I mean, not with you.  But I’ve done some things that weren’t very bright.  I’ve trusted men I shouldn’t have.  And sometimes I paid mightily for those risks.”

Creed was silent. 

I took a deep breath.  “What am I risking, Creed?  With you?”

He pointedly slid the condom off.  “Nothing.” 

It was like pulling teeth.  He just stared at me with a flat expression and kept his thoughts to himself.  Saylor had once described Creed as impenetrable.  It was a good word for him.  With a hiss of disgust I started to climb into the front seat.  Creed grabbed me and pulled me back into his lap. 

“Don’t go,” he whispered.  He held me tightly.  “Tell me more about the ocean.” 

“What for?”

He sighed into my hair.  “Because I’ve only ever seen it once.  And because I like the sound of your voice.” 

I closed my eyes and allowed him to cradle me against his chest.  It was hot in the car but we stayed there for a long time.  I told him about the perpetual music of the seagulls and the sharp pain of stepping on a broken seashell.  Then I talked about falling sleep in a sand dune and awakening to my sisters’ screeching terror as the tide rolled through the darkness and found the lot of us.

Creed lightly ran his fingers up and down my arm.  I knew he heard every word I said.  At one point he turned my head and kissed me with such gentle sweetness it brought tears to my eyes.  I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to quiet the private scream inside my head so he wouldn’t know what I was really thinking just then. 

Damn you, Creedence.  What are you doing to me?

CREED

When Truly shyly asked me to come back to her place I was glad.  She wasn’t sure if her roommate would be around but even if she was that was still far less people to deal with than at my apartment.

When she had started in on a heavy topic earlier I wasn’t prepared.  I’d never spoken a word about the shit hanging over my head with the fight and all.  Since she hadn’t brought it up I figured Saylor didn’t tell her either. 

Even aside from all that, I didn’t know what kind of conversation she wanted to have.  Whatever was going on here was new to me.  That’s where I sensed a wide difference between us.  Truly had been hurt.  I understood that much.  She’d given her heart away and then suffered for it.  I’d never given my heart to anyone other than my brothers.  I wasn’t sure I could. 

But I did know one thing; when I was with her the bottle stopped calling to me so loudly.  Chase had been right to bawl me out about that.  Drinking had become too much of a crutch.  If I didn’t put an end to it then someday I’d awaken to the sad reality that big patches of my life had been lost to the fog. 

“You hungry?” Truly asked with a smile as she opened the door to her apartment. 

“Always,” I answered with my hand on her back. 

I’d forgotten about that cat of hers.  It was sitting on the arm of the sofa.  I could swear the thing was pissed to see me again. 

Truly called to it softly.  “Hey Dolly girl.”  The black cat mewed and crept beneath her open hand. 

“A guest.  That’s unusual.” 

The voice was female.  For a horrifying second I thought it came from the cat.

The girl walked into the living room and leaned against the far wall with her arms crossed.  From the silent way she sized me up I guessed she didn’t cut anyone too many breaks. 

“Steph,” said Truly with some surprise.  “This is Creed Gentry.  Creed, this my roommate, Stephanie.” 

“Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to be polite.  I extended my hand. 

She stared at my outstretched hand for a few seconds.  Then she laughed, tossing her curly blonde hair over her shoulder before she shook my hand gruffly. 

“You couldn’t give a hot damn about meeting me,” she said but there was amusement in her voice.  She had a clipped eastern accent.  New York maybe, or New Jersey. 

“Be nice,” Truly warned but she was chuckling softly.   

“I was nice to someone yesterday,” Stephanie yawned.  She was good looking.  Her clothes were sloppy and her face was free of makeup, but I could tell she really turned into something if she made the effort.  Even so, she could never have competed with Truly. 

But then, as far as I was concerned these days, no girl could compete with Truly.

“I’ve seen you before,” this Stephanie person said to me.  “On campus.” 

“I work security at events sometimes.” 

“I don’t go to fucking events.  No, that’s not it.”  She snapped her fingers.  “You’re in my Psych 101.  You’re always lounging in the back with your sunglasses on and skinny chicks hanging all over your shit.” 

I glared at her.  “That’s not me.  That’s my brother.” 

“Oh,” she shrugged.  She didn’t seem particularly interested either way.  

“You heading out?” Truly asked as Stephanie shouldered a black backpack. 

“Yeah,” Stephanie muttered with a troubled look.  “So I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this stimulating discussion another time.”  She shoved me aside as she made her way to the door.  “I’ll see you guys.”  She shut the door behind her before either of us could say a word. 

“I know,” Truly said in response to my raised eyebrows.  “I can’t figure her out either.  I think she prefers it that way.  I’m actually surprised she greeted you at all.”

“If you can call that a greeting.” 

“It is for Stephanie.” 

Truly slipped her heels off and walked to the kitchen.  “You like gumbo?” 

“I don’t know.  What is it?”

She let out a fake gasp of horror and poked her head around the corner.  “You’re kidding!  Oh honey, we’ve
got
to pop that cherry tonight.”  She disappeared around the corner again and I heard her opening the fridge. 

I found her stirring some ghastly looking shit inside of a big plastic container.  She set the timer on the microwave and pushed the whole thing in.  I’d never known another woman able to do that; turn every move into something so totally beautiful that I just couldn’t stop staring. 

Truly noticed.  “What?”

I rested one hand on the fridge door and traced the neckline of her blouse with the other.  “I like your fridge. I remember now just how much I like it.” 

She squirmed, breathing hard as my fingers enjoyed the silky feel of her skin.  She wanted me to touch her more.  I wanted to touch her more.  But then the microwave beeped and she slipped away.  “Sit down.  I’ll bring you a bowl.” 

She wouldn’t have objected if I’d ignored her, if I’d pulled her clothes away and started making demands.  I didn’t though.  I liked being here with her like this.  I liked watching her fill a chipped soup bowl and bring me a pile of food, even though it didn’t look particularly tasty. 

“Smells good though,” I admitted.  “What did you call it?”

“Gumbo,” she smiled.  “You
have
to eat it.  I insist.  It’s got sausage, shrimp, vegetables and everything but the kitchen sink mixed in.  My sisters and I used to live on nothing but this for months at a time.  I could make it in my sleep.” 

I picked up the spoon she had given me.  “I thought you told me you didn’t cook.” 

Truly shrugged.  “And I thought you were being a caveman at the time so I lied.” 

She watched me carefully as I took a bite.  It kind of tugged at me a little, how badly she wanted me to like this stupid bowl of food.  I chewed slowly and swallowed. 

“It’s good,” I said honestly. 

She grinned and went back to the fridge.  “Congrats.  You have lost your creole gumbo virginity and now nothing else will ever taste as good again.  You want a beer?”

I hesitated.  I could drink casually.  I’d done it plenty.  But sometimes I went too far even if I hadn’t meant to.  Sometimes I fell into the black hole and started kicking away ancient grudges.  I didn’t want Truly to see that.  Hell no. 

“Think I’ll stick with water.”  She brought me the water, got a bowl of gumbo for herself and sat down across from me. 

“So you want to be a fashion designer,” I said.  Her dark eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “What?  Isn’t that what you said before?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t think you were listening at the time.” 

“I already told you, Truly.  I’m always listening when you talk.” 

She dropped her spoon into her bowl with a loud clatter. 

“Creed.” She said my name as if it was a curse.  I stopped chewing, wondering what the hell I’d done to piss her off.  She leaned forward, the ends of her hair brushing the table while I waited for her to look at me again.  When she did I saw that she wasn’t angry at all.  She seemed nervous.  “I’m starting to like you too much.” 

“Who says?” I put my hand under her chin and moved in to gently kiss her lips.  “Huh?”

We resumed eating in silence.  Occasionally Truly would look my way, her dark eyes full of secrets.  It was okay.  I had a few of my own. 

After we ate, Truly asked if I wanted to watch television.  I didn’t, but I sat on the couch next to her anyway.  She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed happily as I flipped through the channels.  I noticed her smile when I slipped my arm around her shoulders to hold her closer.  I was reminded of Saylor and Cord. 

“Do you like this show?” she asked.  There were a bunch of scrawny women running around and screaming.  Two of them began pulling each other’s hair. 

“No.”  I turned off the television.  I touched the gauzy fabric of her skirt.  “Do you make a lot of your own clothes?”

“I used to.  I would scour eBay for vintage patterns and spend just about every spare penny on fabric.”

“Used to?  You don’t anymore?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “I had to sell my sewing machine about a year ago.  As soon as I can scrape together enough tip money I’ll get another one. I miss sewing.  It’s such a basic pleasure, creating something pretty.  When I was about eight my mom dumped us off with our great grandmother for a few weeks.  I don’t know where the hell she went during that time but it’s not important.  Granny June was a doll.  She was the one who taught me how to piece quilts and how to follow a garment pattern.  She had this ancient Singer treadle.” 

My fingers played in Truly’s hair as she talked.  “She had a what?”

Truly glanced up at me with a stunning smile.  “Treadle machines came before electric ones.  Granny June said hers was from the early nineteen hundreds.  It was bolted into a table and sat about this high.”  She sat up and started using her hands to explain what she was talking about.  “There was this big flat pedal underneath and the machine sewed as fast as your foot pumped.”

“Is that like the one you had?”

“No,” she sighed.  “I had a new model electric one.  Did embroidery and everything.  It was a good machine, but I never stopped pining for Granny June’s treadle.  I’ll get one someday.” 

When she settled against me again I started running my hands over her legs.  I parted her knees and got on the floor between them.

“You don’t say much,” she whispered as my hands went higher and her legs spread wider. 

“You want to talk some more right now?” I asked as my thumb went inside her and began moving.

She arched towards me.  “Mmm.  Maybe not now.”  She leaned back and I pushed another finger inside of her.  “You didn’t let me finish my sentence though.” 

With my other hand I started unbuttoning her blouse.  “Finish it then.” 

She gasped a little when I moved my hand to her lower back and pushed her forward as my other hand stayed firmly between her legs.  I was pressing her between my hands and she loved it.  

“Dammit,” she breathed, holding onto my shoulders.  “I meant that you don’t say much, Creed.”  She bit her lip as her body began to clench involuntarily.  “But when you do, it really counts.” 

I watched her face as she got off on my hand. She always kept her eyes closed and a deep flush rose from her neck to her forehead. When she was done I picked her up in my arms and carried her into the bedroom.  I laid her down on the bed and pushed her hands away. 

“Let me do this,” I said hoarsely and she relaxed, keeping her arms at her sides.  I forced myself to go slowly as I stripped everything off her.  I liked letting it build like this.  Every new inch of Truly’s exposed skin made my pants a little tighter.  She watched as I made short work of my own clothes and climbed on top of her.  Her legs went around me eagerly and I pounded her sexy body until I couldn’t breathe. 

The damn cat scared the living hell out of me when it leapt onto the bed. 

“Jesus!” I yelled, jumping off. 

Truly laughed and pulled the thing into her arms.  “You’re scaring her.” 

“Fuck that.  She scared me first.” 

The cat licked her lips.  Truly kissed her on the top of her head and gently put her on the floor.  “Go on now, Dolly.” 

Dolly strutted past me and through the door.  I slammed it shut behind her. 

Truly was grinning.  “How come you hate my cat?”

“I don’t hate your cat.  Your cat hates me.  What did she ever do with the shirt I left here last week?”

She blushed furiously in a way that had nothing to do with sex.  A second later I saw why.  I picked my shirt up off her dresser.  It had been folded with care.

“I washed it,” she stammered. 

“All right,” I shrugged, not really understanding why she was so bent out of shape.  “Thanks.”  I saw a framed photo of four teenage girls on her dresser and picked it up.  “Friends?”

“No,” she said quietly.  “Those are my sisters.” 

With the photo still in hand I sat down next to her on the bed.  She pulled a blanket around herself.  I didn’t understand why she always did that.  We’d already fucked multiple times on multiple nights.  Obviously I’d gotten a real close look at everything there was to see.  But I didn’t want to embarrass her so I didn’t say anything. 

“I know,” she nodded, watching me stare at the picture.  “None of us look anything alike and you’d never believe we were sisters if I didn’t tell you.” 

“I wasn’t thinking that.” 

Truly cocked her head. “What were you thinking then?”

In the picture a younger Truly was beaming radiantly.  It was true that none of the other three looked anything like her or anything like each other, although they were all pretty girls.  One was thin with pale blonde hair and eyebrows.  Another had hair the color of strawberries but was noticeably more solid, muscular.  The girl standing nearest to Truly had dark skin and very short hair.  Truly’s arm was casually slung around that girl’s shoulder.  From the way they stood together I would have guessed that they were very close even if I knew nothing else about them.