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“We agreed to be together forever as well, but you changed the rules on that, too.” He leaned forward. “Answer my question.”
His lips were so close to mine at this moment that if either of us moved an inch or breathed a bit harder, they’d touch.
Maybe, just maybe…
“Goodnight, Dahlia.” He suddenly moved back. “Hope you feel better in the morning.”
“Goodbye Everett,” I said. “Hope Carmen makes you happy.”
GROWING SEASON
BACK THEN
Dahlia
Sunday is the best day of the week, the night I look forward to the most because Everett always arrives a little after five to help me finish the last of my outdoor tasks.
My mom lets him stay as long as he wants and even allows him to spend the night “as long as you both remain on the porch.”
So, we usually wait until she falls asleep before tiptoeing to my room. We return to the veranda before sunrise.
His kisses never fail to weaken my knees and leave me desperate for more, but I always abandon ship whenever we get too far out to sea.
Tonight, I’m sitting on his lap while he runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my lips.
His cock is hardening against my thigh, and I can feel him rubbing against me because I’m wearing one of his oversized T-shirts and nothing underneath.
It’d be so easy for me to let him take me right here, right now.
As he presses a hand against my side—the spot where he knows I’m ticklish—I struggle to hold back laughter.
He pulls back, smiling. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not nervous at all.” I shrug. “I promise.”
He gives me a blank stare.
“Okay. Okay.” I slip out of his lap. “Can I tell you something personal?”
“Always.”
“Give me a second.” I rush to the bathroom and splash my face with water.
My reflection reveals the deep red marks he’s left on my neck and swollen lips.
I know that he’s slept with other girls before, and I’m assuming that they didn’t make him wait over a year to have sex, so…I don’t know if he’ll continue waiting for me.
Breathe, Dahlia, breathe.
I splash my face one more time before returning to the bedroom.
Everett has pulled on his shirt, but his jeans are still resting on my chair. He’s smoothing his briefs, but I can still see his cock print.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “About the ‘something personal,’ I’ve never had sex before.”
“Really? I’m shocked.”
