Straddling the Fence (6 page)

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Authors: Annie Evans

BOOK: Straddling the Fence
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“You haven’t met my friend Grace yet,” Kai said. “We should
all get together for a drink at Sam’s Tavern sometime, have a fun girls’ night
out.”

“Sure, I’m in. Take my number down and call me anytime
you’re ready.” Kai scribbled the number on a slip of paper when Bellamy rattled
it off.

“We’ll try to make plans for one night next week.”

“Sounds great.” Bellamy pocketed her change and grabbed the
handle on the pretty bag Kai had packed with goodies, already looking forward
to hanging out, talking and laughing. As much as she liked Kai, it would be
nice to meet Grace too. Since she’d moved to Serenity, there had been very little
time for socializing. A girls’ night would be a welcome chance to make new
friends, unwind, and get out for a change.

Kai waved goodbye. “Don’t forget to grab your pumpkin!”

Once she’d loaded everything into the backseat of the truck,
Bellamy headed for home.

At her driveway she was met with a closed gate, a shiny new
chain wrapped around the post and secured with a lock.

Her frown of confusion quickly morphed into a smile of
realization. Eli had fixed her gate. No sense thinking it could’ve been anyone
else. But had he locked her out?

There was a small piece of paper stuck to the metal surface
near the chain with a strip of duct tape. She climbed out of her truck to see
what it said.

Check the mailbox.

Inside the mailbox—which also sat atop a brand-new post—was
a single key on a length of twine. Bellamy opened the lock and pocketed the
key, pushed open the gate, drove through then relocked it behind her. Might as
well get in the habit.

The sweet gestures made her heart thump harder as she parked
the truck and carried her Homegrown purchases inside. She should call Eli and
thank him, maybe buy him dinner or something.

Or something
.

But first, a long hot bath to rid herself of any remaining
traces of goat, and to soak the soreness out of her achy muscles.

She pondered that
something
during the entirety of
her twenty-minute soak, then while she made herself a pimento cheese sandwich
and ate it. She didn’t stop mulling it over until she had a steaming cup of
chai tea in her hands and was staring through the window of the kitchen door in
hopes of catching a glimpse of the fox prowling around the shed for its dinner.

It was Halloween, but the moon was waning, almost a crescent
in the inky sky. A lazy breeze made the old rope swing sway back and forth,
catching patches of weak moonlight streaming down through the canopy of tree
limbs. Something looked different. She narrowed her eyes curiously, trying to
decipher what it was.

The pale wood of a brand-new seat in the swing glowed
through the darkness.

Her throat tightened. Tears clouded her vision until she
blinked them away. Bellamy set the teacup and saucer aside, pulled on a robe
over her nightgown and grabbed her phone. Flipping on the back porch light, she
slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and walked outside.

The virgin wood was smooth under her palm, then cool beneath
her bottom as she sat down. He’d routered the edges to a comfortable curve and
shortened the long length of rope enough to allow for reworked knots beneath
the seat.

Forget flowers, expensive gifts or dinner dates. This modest
gesture was the single most romantic thing any man had ever done for her.

After taking a long moment to simply absorb just how sweet
and thoughtful Eli’s gift was, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe
and sent him a text.

I could use a push.

Chapter Six

 

In truth, Eli had already given Bellamy a push,
metaphorically speaking, although that probably wasn’t his intention. Any
hesitancy she’d felt at getting involved with him vanished the second she spied
the repaired swing. Maybe even upon encountering the closed gate. And she
couldn’t forget the concern he’d shown for her living conditions last Saturday.
The frown he’d tried to chase away but had kept returning to darken his eyes
and set his mouth in a tense line. It wasn’t like she was living in squalor,
but she could admit it was scant. To an outsider it might appear lonely and
disconcerting. Temporary.

Isn’t it?

Admittedly, she did miss some material things—the huge comfy
beanbag chair she’d sat in to read, her old bed with its wrought iron frame
she’d found at a yard sale for fifty bucks, and a few other odds and ends that
didn’t make the trip because of space constraints. Renting a moving truck
would’ve cost money she didn’t have to spare, and her mom and dad couldn’t be
troubled to shorten their trip and offer help of any sort.

She’d outright lied to Eli when she told him her parents
weren’t the overly involved type. The truth was they were emotionally
negligent. She’d never wanted for anything growing up except their attention,
their genuine involvement in her life. To feel as if they cared about what
happened to her instead of always wondering if she’d been an afterthought. A
reproductive concession to satisfy some societal, parental or sibling pressure,
not a sincere desire for a child.

Down deep inside, Bellamy knew her parents loved her, but
they were selfish in expressing the sentiment in ways that really mattered.
That was why getting to spend summers and holidays with her grandparents had
meant so much. Here, she’d felt wanted, loved and nurtured. Like she belonged.
In some ways, she supposed it fed her through the months in between visits.
Gave her something to look forward to.

Her phone chimed with a return message, jarring her from the
depressing thoughts and back to the moment.

Be there in 10
.

She dropped the phone back into her pocket, let go a shaky
breath and kicked the flip-flops aside to drag her toes through the cool,
dew-dampened grass. Let her mind focus on the tickling sensation instead of the
fast, anticipatory thud of her heart as she tried hard not to count off the
minutes in her head.

It didn’t dawn on her until she heard the approaching whine
of the big tires on his pickup that she’d locked the gate behind her earlier.
She waited for him to call, but he must’ve kept a spare key for himself or hid
one somewhere because after a brief pause, headlights flashed through the side
of the yard and then he was parking behind her raggedy car.

Bellamy closed her eyes and listened to the soft
shush-shush-shush
of his footsteps through the grass as he drew nearer. Beneath her palms, the
rope was hard and slightly abrasive since it hadn’t been handled in years. The
night air was crisp, but still held enough humidity for it to feel moist against
the bare skin of her legs. When his footsteps ceased and she could sense him in
front of her, she opened her eyes.

He was wearing the same cream-colored western shirt he’d had
on the night they met in Perry. Forevermore that shirt, or anything similar in
color or style, would be a turn-on for her. Fabric washed to a fine softness,
traces of his aftershave clinging to the collar. The tanned expanse of his
forearms and throat stark against the lighter shade. Pearl snaps that came
apart easily at her frenzied urging, the sound an instant and lasting
aphrodisiac. Simple, really. Just a shirt on a handsome man, yet Eli made the
experience unique and unforgettable.

Moonlight turned his dark hair silvery across the crown of
his head and cast his face mostly in shadow. If she didn’t know him better,
he’d look threatening, intimidating. His lips parted like he wanted to say
something before he closed them and stepped behind her.

She waited for his hands to grasp her hips and push, nearly
shivering in the interval, but instead they covered hers around the rope. He
pressed his face to her hair at the back of her neck, and even through the
thickness of the strands, she could feel his breaths warm her skin. Goose bumps
rose along her arms. Her nipples grew tight beneath her gown. Arousal pooled
low in her belly, spreading slow like honey through her core.

When his mouth found her ear, he whispered, “Every girl
needs a swing.”

Bellamy had to bite her lip hard to stifle a gasp of
emotion. It took her a moment to recover enough to respond. “Thank you is
woefully inadequate.”

“It’s enough, Bell. Just being here with you is enough.”

It wasn’t enough for
her
, but how could you express
to someone that they’d given you the best parts of your childhood back? How did
you put into words the feeling of not having a care in the world except how
high you could fly?

Sitting there on that new seat brought hazy memories into
sharp relief. Hot summer days spent picking wild blackberries for cobbler.
Sticky peach juice trickling down her arm as she sank her teeth into the ripe,
freshly picked fruit. Sinking to her chin in a round, galvanized tub full of
cold water from the hose as a respite from the oppressive Georgia heat. Her
grandmother laughing at her from the porch while she shelled fresh peas.
Feeling unbelievably loved and wanted. Those times spent here had been as near
to perfect as you could get.

Bellamy had swung back and forth until her legs were so
tired she was sure they would collapse once she jumped free. A simple piece of
wood and twin lengths of rope became a portal to the past. Now every time she
sat down on the swing, she could recall those sweet memories just as easily as
she did when she sat down at her grandparents’ old farm table.

Eli’s hands left hers to find the curve of her waist. He
pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then gave her a push. Then another and another,
until she was slicing through the chilly air, the hem of her nightgown
fluttering around her knees and laughter bubbling up from her throat. She
closed her eyes and imagined the sun bright and warm on her face, the day hot
and endless, with the rich scent of magnolia blossoms hanging heavy in the
muggy air.

And then she was slowing down after what felt like an hour
of soaring, Eli’s pushes becoming less and less forceful. The swing finally
rocked to a lazy sway and, still smiling, Bellamy heaved a deep sigh of
contentedness.

Thank you would never be enough.

He swept her hair aside and pressed a kiss to the nape of
her neck, making her shiver. His fingers slid under her jaw, tilting her face
up for his mouth. It was an easy meeting of flesh, no tongue yet, just the soft
brush of his lips across hers. Feathery strokes of his thumb across her chin
woke chilled nerve endings beneath the skin. Now that the burst of adrenaline
was wearing off, she was cold.

“Let’s go inside,” she said against his mouth, an invitation
to that
something
she’d pondered so strongly earlier in the evening.

Eli nodded. “Okay.”

She scooped up her flip-flops and he followed her into the
kitchen, where she tossed the shoes to a corner and flipped off the back porch
light. When Eli locked the door and slid the curtain closed over the window,
she smiled at his diligent concern.

Then he was kissing her again, more heat and purpose this
time, with his hands cupping her face and his bigger body crowding hers. Her
bottom bumped against the edge of the table as he walked her backward. At the
tinkle of glass, she remembered the cup of tea she’d abandoned. Reluctantly,
she broke the kiss to peer behind her and make sure she wasn’t about to make a
mess.

“I wasn’t planning to defile you on top of your
grandparents’ table, Bellamy.”

She laughed out loud. “That’s not what I was wondering
about, but okay. I was more concerned with spilling the cup of tea behind me.”

Eli took her hand and led her into the living room, stopping
beside her bed. She switched on the lamp before shrugging out of her robe. When
Eli reached for the placket of his shirt, she stopped him. “Don’t.” At his
hesitant smile, she said, “I want to do that. Take off your boots then lie down
on your back.”

While he tugged his boots and socks off, she shoved her
rumpled blanket aside and straightened the pillows. A fire would’ve been nice,
maybe a little cheesy and clichéd, but still romantic. And warm. She made a
mental note to hire a chimney sweep as soon as she had the available funds.

Eli dropped to the mattress, rolling over onto his back.
Bellamy crawled over him on all fours until her face was level with his. His
fingers tangled in the fabric of her nightgown, but he didn’t tug her down or
urge her to take it off. She brought one hand up to smooth his hair away from
his forehead. “Does anyone nag you about getting a haircut?”

“Not much. Why, do you think I should?”

“No. I like it longer. Although I’ve never seen it shorter
either. You’d probably be just as handsome if you were bald.”

He grinned at her compliment and tucked her hair behind her
ears. It was so fine, several strands immediately defied his placement. “Yours
reminds me of crow feathers.”

She sat down on his upper thighs, not quite on top of his
cock, but high enough she could still reach his chest or lean forward and kiss
his mouth when she felt like it. “I didn’t get a chance to explore you much
that night we met. I want to now. Is that okay?” He nodded when she glanced up
at his face, not that she expected any objection. “Raise your hands above your
head and keep them there.”

He grinned, but did as she said. The action made the hem of
his shirt slip partly out of his jeans, so she helped it the rest of the way,
exposing the lower part of his flat stomach. She bent down to nuzzle the trail
of dark hair below his bellybutton, the soft skin, pleased by the sharp hiss of
Eli’s indrawn breath when her mouth touched down.

One by one, she popped apart the snaps on his shirt from the
bottom upward, placing kisses to his bared flesh as she went. When she had them
all open, she pushed the fabric out of her way and rolled her tongue around his
nipples, first one, then the other. She mouthed the tiny nubs, scraping over
them with her teeth until she made him groan.

“Jesus, Bell.”

Back when she was in high school, some of her friends had
shortened her name and she’d hated it. Hearing that version in Eli’s deep
voice, made rough by arousal, didn’t bother her at all. In fact, she kind of
liked it.

The hair on his chest was soft beneath her nose and
God
,
that particular spot smelled so male it made her sex clench. Pheromones were
powerful things. She brought her hand up, tracing the dark trail down his
stomach to where it disappeared behind his belt buckle. Beneath the graze of
her fingertips, his muscles jumped and contracted.

She dropped more kisses across the hard ridge of his
collarbone, dipped her tongue into the shallow divot at the base of his throat.
For a moment, she let herself linger there just to feel his pulse flutter
against her lips, before she licked over his Adam’s apple. Drew the tip of her
tongue up the side of his neck to the sensitive spot below his ear. When she
bit his earlobe, his hands rose in her periphery, but then he closed them into
fists and forced them back down above his head. She smiled.

“Kiss me,” he said, and she did, thrilled by the demand.

Bellamy wasn’t fooling herself—Eli was allowing her to touch
him this way. With his strength and size, if he wanted to take control, he
could do so easily. Not a chance she would resist, but she might be a little
disappointed at having to halt her erotic exploration. At the lost opportunity
to get fully reacquainted with his incredible body.

That night they spent together in Perry, he’d been the one
in charge and she’d readily conceded to his competence. His sexual expertise
had far outweighed hers anyway, and she’d been in the mood to forget
everything, not think. Block out her troubling thoughts and just feel. Tonight
she wanted to commit sensation to memory, etch it on the walls of her mind so
it would be there forever. She wanted to be the one to unravel this beautiful
man, drive him insane with lust, hear him groan and say filthy things.

She parted her lips and let his tongue slide inside her
mouth, where it slow danced with hers. Ignoring her weak order to keep his
hands above his head, he grasped her face, tilting it at the angle he wanted so
he could devour her more deeply. A soft whimper of need slipped from her
throat, feeding the building heat between their bodies.

Bellamy pressed her breasts to his bare chest for friction
against her nipples, but it wasn’t enough. The thin cotton of her nightgown
might as well have been a sheet of iron. She pulled away just long enough to
whip it over her head and toss it away, going right back to kissing him,
tasting his mouth, nipping at his full bottom lip with her teeth.

From his mouth, she moved to his throat, his muscled chest,
mapping the contours of his ribs as they expanded and contracted with his
excited breaths. Following the treasure trail of hair bisecting his abdomen to
stop at the barrier of his belt.

When his hand caught hers, stopping her from undoing the
buckle, she glanced up, confused. “Tell me the reason behind the invitation,
Bell?”

“Who says there is one?”

“There’s always a reason, some better than others. I
understood the first time. You wanted me to help you forget something, and I
was okay with that. More than okay with it. But I don’t want to be just an
escape for you.”

Bellamy swallowed, licked her bottom lip, his honesty a bit
unsettling. He was owed it back, though. She sat on her heels, her hand still
trapped in his. “I’ve never had to qualify sex before.”

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