Warning: From here on, readers will encounter escalating scenes of a sexual nature. You have been warned. Now, on with the story...
Quite torn over whether she should join the boys in the garage or go back into the house, Becky hesitated in the quickly fading twilight. Moments later, her decision was made for her when Kelley poked his blood-red framed head out from the garage door.
"Love, is that you out there?" he asked, squinting into the dusky light. "Becky, what have I told you about going out alone after dark!"
He stalked towards her with such purposeful intent that Becky instinctively backed away.
"Come here, you!" he barked with a hint of a smile on his shadowy face. "It's not me you need to fear."
"I don't fear you!" she said, tentatively holding her ground. "I'm angry at you."
"Oh, really?" he asked mockingly, crouching slightly into a prowling stance like that of a cat with a mouse. "Should I be afraid then?"
Becky pursed her lips at him and shook her head at the suddenly playful Goth. "This isn't funny. You scared me today."
"Aw... I scared you?" he said with a voice dripping with humour, pitched higher than normal. Dropping the cat and mouse act, he stood with his hands on his waist and tilted his head. "How did I manage that, oh fierce one?"
Becky frowned at him, confused by his peculiar mood. What gave him reason to be so lighthearted suddenly? He'd punched Keegan, glared at her as if she'd ruined his life, then stormed out of the house and drove off without so much as a backwards glance. Now here he was mocking her. She ought to just haul off and kick him in the shins!
Kell didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of her ire. God, he loved her. This he knew to be the ultimate truth. He'd tried to deny it, to put her out of his mind, but no matter how much physical and emotional distance he'd put between them, no matter how many times he'd counted the reasons why he was all wrong for her, the truth of the matter was that he indeed loved her, wanted her, yearned for her. He was lost to this itty bitty waif of a girl who dared to place her trusting little soul into his undeserving hands.
The fact was, this mere squeak of a woman gave him a reason to exist. A purpose to get up every morning. It was hard to describe, this undeniable feeling inside of him. It was not so much a wanting desire, but a need, a deep-seated instinctive, primordial need to protect and look after her. Damn it all to fuck, he was royally screwed!
"You need to stop running off like that!" she scolded him, hands on hips.
"Is that right?" he said, taking a calculated step towards her, hands in his pockets, fingers itching to take hold of her.
"Yes." She took a cautious step backwards.
"You, the boss of me, then?" he teased, backing her up against the picnic table.
"No..." she gasped breathlessly as he leaned in and with his very large hands around her waist, hoisted her up onto the table top. "It's not like that."
"What's it like then, love?" he said, stepping in cozily between her knees. "Tell me..."
"Kelley..." She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and suddenly forgot what she was upset about. Up close like this, he was as dreamy as a Goth boy could be. Handsome, beautiful and deliciously scary all wrapped up in one gorgeous package.
He inclined his handsome face, his ebony eyes softening. He gazed lazily at her lips. "Becky... you're playing with fire." His mouth twitched up into a crooked smile. A half-second passed and then he was on her like a grizzly on honey. He kissed her hard and hungrily. He took her by surprise, releasing all his pent up ardour on her lovely soft lips. He nipped with his teeth then soothed with his tongue. He'd swallow her whole if he could... keep her inside the warm fortress of his heart forever. "Becky, Becky, Becky..."
As he'd done the first time, he trailed hot wet kisses along her jawline, down her neck and found her earlobe. With his arms now encircled around her, one hand cradling her skull, the other tucked nicely underneath her coat, resting between her arm and her ribs, fingers circling, massaging the softness of her flesh, the swell of her breast.
Becky couldn't quite grasp all that was happening to her at his masterful ministrations. Only that she liked it all so very much. All that truly mattered was that Kelley was kissing her, alternating from fervent and demanding, to soft and slow. His powerful body lined up perfectly with her softness. He continued to kiss her while pushing, rocking, and rolling his magnificent hardness into the juncture of her thighs, igniting her core into a fiery furnace of want.
"Kelley..." she rasped desperately, tangling her fingers in his long black hair. Hungrily, she tugged him into her needy centre, wrapping her legs around his hips, pressing herself against him, seeking relief from her unrelenting desire. "Uh, Kelley..." She couldn't get close enough to him, as much as she tried. "I want you."
All was right in her world as long as he didn't stop what he was doing to her. The gorgeous Goth was churning her into melting pot of molten hot lava. Gracie was right. She should fuck Kelley, good and hard. Set him straight. That's right, teach him a lesson for driving off like that.
"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he husked in her ear. Fighting for self-control, his hand slipped under her shirt and travelled upwards to massage her nipple through her bra. "Tell me something, Becky. Tell me the truth."
"Yes... anything, Kelley," she said, her voice a heady whisper while arching her sensitive breast into his hand.
"Who were thinking of?" He nipped and sucked her plump earlobe, eliciting a heated moan from her throat. "When you were touching yourself? Who's hands were you envisioning?"
Becky reddened significantly at his intimate question. How could she possibly answer him without wanting to hide her face into his shoulder?
"Tell me, please," he rasped, his voice heavy, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.
"I can't say," she squeaked bashfully.
"Oh... sweet, shy thing. Please, tell me. Don't make me beg."
She held her breath but at the ache in his voice, she gave in. "You, Kelley. I was thinking about you. Your hands on my..."
"Oh, love, say my name again." He braced himself, his knees buckling at the sultry sound of her voice.
"Kelley..."
"I swear, love. One day I will touch you there," he groaned, kissing her mouth hungrily, concentrating on the fleshy softness of her perky breast in his hand. His fingers, slipping under the lacy material of her bra, taking hold of her tender nipple, rolling the priceless treasure between his thumb and forefinger. "With my hands, my fingers and my mouth. Oh, yes, I will put my mouth down there and I will taste you. I'll kiss you there. Lick you all over and make you scream." He thrust his tongue so deeply into her mouth that she all she could do was hold on and allow him complete access.
Her body twitched in response to the rhythmic thrusts of his relentless tongue. His hips, grinding into her at the same time.
"Yes, Kelley," she murmured, delirious with desire. If there were even a minuscule amount of space between them, she'd used it to strip off her clothes right there and then.
The sound of a door opening and closing shocked them both out of their heady make-out session. Kelley stiffened but stood his ground, preparing for a possible confrontation. Mortified, Becky clung fiercely to Kelley's hair and hid her face into his neck. Oddly, whoever it was, did not utter a single word or snicker. Daring a peek over Kelley's shoulder, she recognized Crispin's silhouette as he quietly crossed the yard and disappeared into the house.
"Well, so much for band practise," Kelley muttered regrettably.
"Oops... sorry. Is he upset?" Becky started to get up in a panic, suddenly cold and uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was to give the guys reason to resent her, especially Crispin.
"Slow down, love." Steadying her in place, he ran his hand down the side of her face and tucked a disheveled lock of hair behind her pink shell of an ear. He smiled kindly at her, gazing deeply into her worried eyes. "He'll get over it. Now where were we?"
"Well, perhaps we should stop while we're ahead," she whispered, running her fingers across his shoulders.
"Too intense for you?" He quirked a crooked smile. "Love, you haven't seen anything yet." Inclining his head, he sought out her irresistible mouth and playfully nipped at her puffy bottom lip.
True, it was easy to get lost in his kiss. The man was masculine perfection personified. She'd never been kissed so thoroughly. This was nothing like kissing what's his name.
No, this particular Goth with the red streaks in his hair was in a category all on his own. Plus with the added benefit of Kelley being her heart's one true love, the man could do no wrong as far as she was concerned. Problem was, it was her brain that demanded a momentary reprieve.
"You have to stop kissing me," she pleaded, reluctantly falling under his wondrous spell. "Please... just give a chance to say what's on my mind."
Forcing himself to take a step back, Kelley took both her hands in his, rested his forehead on hers and nodded. Their laboured breaths, visibly intermingling in the frosty air. "Go on then, little one. Speak now, or forever hold your peace."
"It's just... well, I'm still upset with you."
"Upset with me, why?" he asked, suddenly very tense.
"For all that happened today," she said, needing to vent her feelings. "I don't understand. One minute we were about to have breakfast then out of nowhere, you attacked Keegan."
"Uh, huh, how else did I fuck up?" he asked, rather moodily, letting go of her hands and backing away.
"You glared at me," she said, her voice escalating. "Like it was somehow my fault. Then you just drove off."
"Right, because it couldn't possibly have been your fault. Not you, not little miss goodie two shoes," he snapped, seeing red, hearing his father's condemning words in his head. The words that reminded him of how selfish and irresponsible he always was.
Of course, she would be mad at him. He would just end up letting her down like he'd done to all those he cared about. Already he was fucking up. He'd only end up hurting her in the end. Best she realize it now before it's too late.
"Kelley?" She hopped off the table and stepped towards him, reaching for his forearm. Why was he acting like this? Where was the sweet lover of only moments ago?
Abruptly shaking her off, he deftly spun away from her reach and closed his eyes for a moment. He then shook his head and stared off into the starry sky. "You'll keep your distance if you know what's good for you," he warned.
Eyes wide, she gasped at his menacing words. "You wouldn't hurt me." She attempted to reach for him, but he managed to avoid her once again. Holding his arms up away from her, he backed up as she continued to stubbornly pursue him.
"Only I might just hurt you! Ever thought of that?" he hissed.
"Please, I don't understand..." Stifling an unwelcome sob, she folded her shaky hands to her chest and gazed into his stormy expression.
"Well, open your fucking eyes!" Best to rip the bandage off quick, he recalled Crispin saying. Perhaps he'd been right from the get go. "Grow the fuck up. You're a woman, still acting like a child. Take some responsibility for yourself, damn you and your naivety! You want us all at your feet, but that's where your tiresome innocence has you fooled, sweetheart. You think they care about you when all they really want is a shot at you."
"I don't have to listen to this." Becky turned tail and ran for the back door. Whoever it was back there was not the Kelley she knew and loved, the Kelley who'd nursed her back to health, cared for her in her helplessness. He was not the same person who'd stood by her at her granny's funeral or the loving friend who'd cradled her to sleep on those many nights.
"Damn it all to fuck!" Kelley scoffed, kicking himself. It killed him to see her run from him. She should be running towards him, not away from him. In his heart, he silently screamed for her to come back. Unfortunately, his selfish pride won over once again.
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Attention readers, I have re-published chapters 34 to 47. Enjoy and #stayhome #sayhealthy