Chapter 11

My mind wanders back to Deacon and last night. I think about the way he smelled my hair and moved it off my shoulders to expose my neck. Thinking about how he leaned in to kiss me, has me giddy.

Ignoring the reality of Sam’s intrusion, I picture what could’ve been. Deacon’s and my lips touching, our tongues tangled passionately. Him lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping around his waist while he carried me to his room and lay me on his bed.

Kissing, touching, learning about each other’s bodies and the things we like. Until finally, he takes my virginity, coming inside of me, then falling into his arms. Breathless and weak, but content.

There’s a loud thunk as the coffee carafe slams onto the tabletop. It startles me out of my daydream.

“Cream?” my mom says.

I look at her wide-eyed and a little afraid, as if she were reading my thoughts about Deacon creaming inside of me.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you still using the cream?” she asks.

Feeling flushed, I say, “Oh. No. Sorry,” and slide it across the table.

She pours the cream in her coffee and sits back. “So how was the babysitting job?”

I take a breath to calm myself down. “Fine. Cute kid. Easy to watch.”

My voice sounds nervous. My words clipped. I hope she doesn’t notice or ask any more questions.

She sips her coffee, reading the wet newspaper. “Good. Did he ask you to babysit again?”

“Yeah. He offered me the job.”

“Excellent,” she says without looking up from her paper. “Maybe now you can start helping out with the phone bill.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “No problem.”

I head over to Deacon’s again. This time I bring a bag full of children’s books and vegetables from the garden.

“Hi,” Deacon says, his face lighting up when he answers the door.

I feel my own face mirroring his. How is it possible that he looks even better today than he did yesterday?

“Hey, I brought some stuff for Bailey,” I say to him.

“That’s so sweet of you.”

He’s definitely looking at me differently today. There’s no doubt about it. Instead of looking away, his eyes skim my body. I can tell he’s trying not to be too obvious about it, but he’s not doing a very good job. Now I’m almost certain he saw me through my window last night. I want to ask him about it, see if he liked what he saw, but if he hadn’t really seen me, I’ll sound like a crazy person.

He lets me in the house. Looking back at the driveway, I see Sam’s car isn’t here, and I feel much more comfortable going inside. It’s a good thing, because today I dressed a little sexier than I had before.

Actually, today I’m dressed similar to what I was wearing yesterday, shorts and a loose tank top, but today I forwent the bra. My nipples are hard as rocks, the silky fabric of my tank top rubbing against them. Impossible not to see through my shirt. He definitely notices those because his eyes go straight to them each time he turns to look at me and I notice he keeps himself slightly turned to the side at all times so I can’t see the front of his pants.

In the kitchen I wash the vegetables. Without realizing it, I’m holding a cucumber under the water, rinsing the excess dirt off in stroking motions. Deacon watches with mischievous smile spread across his face.

“Oh my god,” I say, realizing when I finally figure out the mystery behind his smile.

“No, please continue,” he says through a laugh. “I’m curious about your technique.”

I can’t help but laugh too and flick water at him. He ducks and keeps laughing. He comes up behind me to escape any other water splatter, and when he does, he touches my shoulders. It sends a shiver throughout my entire body. The chemistry between us is unmistakable. Electricity sizzles in the air and makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. My pussy aches each time his skin touches mine, even though he’s not touching me in any kind of sexual way. That’s never happened to me with the boys I’ve dated.

His fingers tickle down my arms. I inhale a sharp breath and I hear him let out a sound deep in his throat before pressing his body against mine, pinning me to the counter. I can feel his hard on against the cleft of my butt. I lean back and press against him. He groans and presses harder.

Before things can go too far—I want things to go too far—Bailey starts crying. Deacon sighs and backs away. I feel his presence still with me, still touching me even after he walks away, like a ghost of him still remains.

He clears his throat. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. That was totally inappropriate. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable,” he says.