Waiting for You (21 page)

His words, his
touch, his kisses were everywhere, showing me exactly what I had been missing.

“Do you have
any
fucking idea how much I want you?” His body tensed, eyebrows squeezed together,
evident of how much he wanted me by the movement of his hips. “Do you know?” He
gave a sharp grunt and pushed forward sharply. “Do you fucking know?”

“Please,” I huffed,
needed and I pleaded, all breath and no air.

“Please what?”
Dylan grunted. The force of his hips pushing into me moved my body slowly up
the bed until I my head was now hitting the headboard.

“Show me,” I
whimpered, feeling my body start to shake. “Show me how bad you want me.”

The sounds he was
making were coming from his chest and I felt it resonating throughout me. He pushed
harder, faster, leaning his forehead against my cheek, his hair falling in my
eyes.

“I want to be
inside you. I want you so
fucking
bad...” His breathing felt as shallow
as my own. He was past being so in control, to every bit as defenseless, and dependent
as me. “I want to rip your fucking underwear off and have my way with you,” he
groaned again as he buried his face in my neck and made me scream as his body
shook above mine, moaning, curving into me as his knees spread my legs further
and his hips jerked forward. I could feel him harden, still grunting in my ear
as he trembled, wetness now seeping into me from him. “Fuck…” he moaned that
same moan from earlier tonight on stage.

“Dylan…” I breathed
kissing his neck.

“Kiss me,” he
whispered, long lashes lowered, gasping for breath. “Kiss me, brown eyes...”

I felt the tip of
his tongue and his lips open more, and I kissed him deeper.

Handling me with
care as my breathing slowed and my shivers started to calm, Dylan blew a long
breath out and eased his body from mine. He lied down on his back next to me
and curved his right hand with my left. “Do you believe me now?”

Other than a nod, I
couldn’t form a word.

What just happened?

After showering, we were lying in the bed
deciding what time we would head for Dodge City when his phone kept ringing. It
wasn’t the first time that it went off in one of these ringing fits but it was
also too early for it to be ringing.  

Dylan leaned over
the side of the bed to reach for it. Annoyed at the name that flashed again, he
picked it up and whispered-yelled, “Just leave me the fuck alone!”
Before he threw it across the room.

“Who was it,
Dylan?” I asked, leaning my back against his chest.

“Your dad,” he
answered quickly, his arms circling around me again.

“Why?”

Dylan groaned,
sitting up straight. I sat up; he pulled me back against him.
“Why what, Bailey?”

“Why is he calling
you at four in the morning? Why is he calling you at all?”

He didn’t answer
me.

I turned in his
arms, up on my knees, in front of him. Dylan wouldn’t look at me and I was
wondering why. I leaned back on my calves. Dylan touched my bare knee. “Let’s
just close our eyes. We should get a little more sleep before we head out.”

“No,” I shook my
head. “Why is he calling you?”

Dylan’s jaw
clenched, his eyes squinted. “You didn’t think he would let his only daughter
leave with me that easily, did you?” He laughed, but it was a venomous and
spiteful laugh.

“I guess not.”

He gripped my hips
tighter and turned his face back to my neck when I relaxed against him.

I felt him
breathing through his nose. I heard my own, the rain outside, and his phone,
muffled against his jeans on the floor, but I heard his phone, and it pulled me
out of my haze.

What did my dad
want? Why did reality have to come crashing back? Why couldn’t we just stay in
a bubble of bucket lists, crazy hitchhikers and bars? Why did I have to think
of my life back home and what was happening without me?

What if something was
wrong with Jeb? What if something happened to him and I wasn’t there? Honestly,
I missed him, I did.

“Has he left any
messages?” My stomach twisted in thoughts.

Dylan kissed my
skin with his tongue and teeth, ignoring the sound of his phone and my question
until it stopped. Then it started again, and I hated it. It made my heart feel
pinched and hurt and bothered, because behind my smeared sunrises and cracks in
the curtains, was a revealed truth.
Reality.
We left
home with no plan and not a care in the world. But we couldn’t ignore the
reality of it. The ringing phone was evidence of that.

I pushed Dylan’s
shoulders. “Stop,” I told him. “Your phone’s ringing, stop. You should see what
he wants.”

He didn’t stop. He
kissed up from my neck, around my jaw again, continuing to ignore the sound of
a third call.

“Dylan, stop,” I
said again, stronger this time.

Pulling away
abruptly, Dylan stood beside the bed reaching for his phone and when he found
it, he practically jerked the battery out, and tossed both pieces across the
room. “You stop,” he warned, meeting my eyes. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t raise
his voice, but he was serious. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to the
edge of the bed. “None of that shit matters, brown eyes. Be with me…here.”

I swallowed holding
onto his hands, feeling him hold onto me. My thoughts, my feelings, the ice
blue mixed with the gray in the room, shadows and smoke, everything swirled at
his touch.

“Okay,” I nodded.
“Okay.”

He swallowed too
and leaned back down, pressing his lips to my lips again. His kisses were
heavier this time, his bites on my skin harder. His hands glided down my thighs
and gripped, and squeezed, alternating between tight and gentle. His attention
soothed just as it started to thrill again.

I tried not to
think, to feel, to do anything but be with Dylan the way I wanted, feeling the
magic between us, feeling it the way he wanted me to. We may not have been
having sex but there was a passion between us, a spark that wasn’t going to be
put out easily.

“I’m here, brown
eyes,” Dylan said against my skin. He spoke low and soft, sure words, but he
sounded tortured underneath his careful tone. “Be here with me.”

“I am here,” I told
him, trying to make myself be, even as my heart was telling me there was
something in his words that I might have been missing. “I’m here,” I said
again, trying so hard.

“Then fucking be
here,” he quietly scolded knowing, hushed and threatening, gripping tighter and
pulling me closer. Moving down my body, pushing the sheets and his flannel I
was wearing aside to reveal bare skin, he brought my right hip right under his
lips and closed them over me. I cried out at the roughness of his kiss.
Groaning, he sucked and bit, digging his teeth in. I could feel my blood
rushing from my heart to under his lips.

He hummed and
groaned, and breathed hot over his mark, playing my body as well as he did the
crowd the other night. His hands and lips softened and I let go of my hesitance
and let the adrenaline he lit in my veins run its course. Tugging on his
shoulders gently, my brain and heart spun into emotions I’d never felt before,
hurt and surrendered, and needing, too many different feelings.

I just wanted him.

“Dylan?” I
whispered so quietly I barely heard myself. I blinked and my eyelashes felt
wet. I didn’t mean to cry. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t.

“
Shhhh
, don’t cry.” His voice was strong. “Don’t cry.” His
voice was soft at the same time and he moved up my stomach, kissing me as he
made a slow path. “Don’t cry over this. It’s not worth it.”

I nodded, not
crying, holding his eyes with mine as he settled between my legs and covers my
body with his just like I needed and didn’t even know. He warmed me. He melted
me. Through icy blue, dark storms, he calmed me just by being so near in the
eye of our storm.

“I love you, brown
eyes,” he told me whispering words that felt like raindrops and wet trees. “Do
you know that?”

I nodded, because
even though it felt impossible, that after a week together, he would feel an
emotion no one truly knows the meaning to, I do know. I know it better than I
know anything else. I know it because it’s what my bones are made of. It’s what
we are made of. The occasional brush in the halls at school, the hidden smiles,
the stolen glances, we had always loved each other from opposite sides of our
own storms. Only now, the two fronts had collided, one force.

“I know,” I
promised, holding onto him so tight. Logic and apprehension didn’t register
then, didn’t want to
registered
. All it wanted was to
see this, the calm, the wet trees and raindrops that had the power to awaken a
soul and fight for what we wanted. It wants what is simple and true.

We stared at each
other in silence for long moments, lost in a moment neither one of us try to
surface from. We’re okay drowning; we’re okay, lost at sea.

“I’m not Eric,
Bailey.” His words were spoken softly, holding my eyes with his. “I’m here for
you and you only.”

I jumped slightly
when his hands touched my exposed knees, pulling them apart until his torso is
nestled between them. The heat from his skin radiated through his body and into
me, a slow fire burned. The words from his lips left me burning and bare.

“I would never
betray you like that.” His hands emphasized his statement as they slowly
trailed up my thighs, pushing the soft material of his flannel.

I gasped as he
reached behind my knees and pulled me closer, until my innocence as he put it,
is right there for him. His hands moved back to my thighs and pushed my
underwear until it bunched around my hips, leaving me exposed to him.

His thumbs trailed
confident circles on my hipbones, right above the waistband of my panties.

“I only want you,”
he stated forcefully, pleading with his eyes for me to believe him.

And then, his mouth
was on me, a place no one had ever been.

His eyes closed, he
moaned, I moaned, and then we both sort of checked out. His tongue, wet and
warm, was soft, caring, and showing me that he only wanted me in a way that no
one ever had before.

I couldn’t concentrate
on anything, not with Dylan Wade’s head between my legs and his mouth on my
vagina.
No, hell no.
Concentration was not there. I
will tell you what was there, heavy breathing, gasping, wiggling, squirming, a
little embarrassment, growling, more panting, hair pulling, laughing, a few
giggles, and finally, bliss.
Pure fucking bliss.

Dylan grabbed my
hips tighter, his hands working with his tongue to send me over the edge, but
what did it was his moan he let out at my reaction, writhing in his hands,
screaming his name loud enough for the entire hotel to hear and then going limp
in his arms.

It took just a
second; he scrambled up my body, hovered over me, and then reached below to
grasp
himself
. Just as I had done the other night, and
last night, his hand brought him to the edge I was just on, before he spilled
onto my stomach, his face buried in my neck.

Most of what I
focused on was that he said he loved me. And I said nothing. Did I love him? A
good part of me always had since that first kiss on the train tracks. I was
scared to love someone as intense as Dylan, especially when I didn’t even know
myself. I couldn’t even tell him why I got in his car let alone that I loved
him.

10.
   
Wide Awake – Bailey Gray

I noticed this with
my friends in school, most the hookers on the cheerleading squad who spread
their legs for anything on the football team that hurled insults their way,
that once you start getting sexually active with someone, it’s usually all you
want to do. What is it about hormones that can’t be denied? Why once they’re
activated is it all you think about?

This doesn’t just
go for guys either, girls are just bad. When Mercedes and Kasey starting having
sex, they’d skip class just to do it in the parking lot. Same deal with Jessica
and Brian. Another friend,
Halie
, her and her
boyfriend Clayton used to do it under the bleachers during our pep rallies. No
lie, it was like crack. Once they got a taste of it that’s all they did.

I completely
understood that feeling now. It wasn’t like we were having sex, yet the
anticipation of it and what we might try next, was exciting.

“That shit stinks,
what is it?” Dylan asked looking over at me with my feet on the dash and the
wind blowing through the car, both windows down.

“Nail
polish.”
I said raising the bottle slightly but trying to keep my hand steady. “I’m
painting my toes black because my mom hates that color.” When I finished my
right foot, I looked over at him with a sucker in his mouth. It was very
distracting. “What me to do yours too?”