Lifers

  “Uh, no, that’s fine. Just … just give me a minute.”

  I closed my eyes and forced my body to relax, breathing in and out slowly, as my racing heart fell back into its normal rhythm. I felt Torrey’s warm hand on my thigh.

  “Okay now?” she asked, guilt painting her voice.

  I smiled at her—well, grimaced. “Yeah, I’m good. And now that I’ve managed to make a complete ass of myself, I’d really like to take you up on your offer—if it’s still open.”

  “Oh, I’m still open,” she laughed with relief.

  Even though I was aching to take her up on that as soon as possible, I drove even more slowly to her house. If we’d been going any slower, the truck would have been in reverse.

  I pulled up outside the Rectory, pretty damn relieved that we’d made it in one piece.

  “I’m hoping your momma is out,” I admitted. “I don’t think I’d be able to, uh, perform, if she was in the house. It just wouldn’t seem right.”

  Torrey smirked at me. “You’re quite an old fashioned gentleman underneath all those muscles and tats, aren’t you?”

  I glanced over at her.

  “Well now, if your momma is out, I’ll be perfectly happy to demonstrate how much I’m not a gentleman.”

  “Deal!” she laughed, leaping out of the truck.

  I followed her right quick, almost tripping over my feet in my eagerness to get to her.

  We fell in through the front door and she damn near attacked me, pushing me against the wall, her hungry hands roaming freely up and down my body.

  “You want it here, sweetheart?”

  She laughed throatily.

  “Well, it is a flat surface.”

  Can’t argue with that.

  “Hmm, let’s see what’s cookin’.”

  I picked her up so her legs wrapped around my waist automatically and carried her into the kitchen.

  “W-what are we doing in here?” she gasped.

  “First horizontal surface,” I breathed against the salty, damp skin of her neck.

  Then I placed her onto the kitchen counter and snapped open the button on her shorts.

  “Lift up for me, sweetheart.”

  I slid the shorts down her legs while she reached for my zipper.

  I managed to grab my jeans before they fell to the floor and pulled out a rubber.

  “Gonna have to stock up on these, sweetheart.”

  She gave a breathless laugh. “We should buy shares in the company.”

  I pumped myself a couple of times then rolled the condom on, tugging it to make sure it was as far up as it could go.

  “God, I love seeing you do that,” she said.

  “What, sheath up?”

  “When you touch yourself,” she said, her voice low and full of need. “It turns me on.”

  “Does this turn you on?”

  I held her knees wide apart and pushed myself inside her inch by inch. She rested her hands on my shoulders, but her eyes were focused on my dick, slowly sliding in and out.

  “You like to watch, Torrey,” I murmured, my eyes trained on her face.

  She nodded wordlessly.

  I picked up the speed, relieved that I could finally show some fucking control, and that I wasn’t blowing my wad the second I entered her.

  I knew this was fucking to her and not making love, but I’d take whatever she’d give me. And right now I wanted to feel her come around my cock.

  I reached down to massage her, and she whimpered and tried to wrap her legs around my waist.

  “No, sweetheart,” and I pushed her knees even further apart, giving me room to touch her as I circled my hips.

  “Oh my God, Jordan!” she shouted.

  I could feel the small tremors begin building through her body, and I started moving faster, but without losing the rhythm. I was determined to make this good for her.

  She leaned on her hands; her head falling back and some mangled vowels fell from her lips. I felt her sweet pussy clamp around me. I managed to hold on for another few seconds, before my vision went dark and I was pulsing inside her.

  My head was buried in her neck, and I allowed her to fold her legs around me.

  “Oh my God, Jordan!” she half laughed, half groaned. “That was … I don’t know what that was! Felt gooood!”

  “Seein’ as I’m just an old fashioned country boy,” I said, between hard kisses, “how about we take it to your bedroom for a change. Make some lovin’ in comfort?”

  “Hmm, a bed,” she snickered, digging her heels into my ass as she spoke, “that sounds different. I guess we could try it.”

  Which we did. Several times. That woman just about wore me out.

  We’d been three rounds, and I wondered if I’d used up the ration of spunk that I’d been storing over the last eight years. Could that happen? I didn’t know. I did know that if she grabbed me hard again, my dick would probably fall off or just plain give up on me.

  I propped myself up on one elbow to look at her. Her hair was a soft, tangled mess like a halo around her head, and her body glistened with sweat. It made me want to lick her salty skin. My dick twitched once in appreciation before admitting defeat. Poor guy needed some time off for good behavior.

  “Oh my God,” Torrey moaned. “I don’t think I can move.”

  I stroked her soft stomach, enjoying the silkiness of her skin.

  “You don’t have to, sweetheart. You can stay here till sun up. But I’m gonna have to get goin’ soon.”

  “Noo,” she whined.

  “Sorry, darlin’. Your momma could be back any time now and my curfew will be up in an hour.”

  She sighed and opened her eyes.

  “I’ve really enjoyed today, Jordan. All of it.”

  “Me too, sweetheart. Maybe we can do it again sometime?” I added, hopefully.

  “I’d like that. Big fat yes.”

  She yawned and sat up. I carried on looking at her. Well, staring really, my eyes fixing to dribble out of my head. She was so peaceful in her own skin—she just fit. That was rare.

  Then she wrinkled her nose.

  “Ugh! My room smells of sex!”

  “We have kinda been goin’ some, sweetheart,” I said, running a hand down her back, almost drooling when she pushed her tits out at me. “We’ll have to spend a whole day in bed next time.”

  She arched her spine and stretched her arms above her head, ensuring that my eyeballs remained glued to her chest.

  “God, yes!” she laughed. “So, will I see you tomorrow morning? Maybe we could get in a quickie before I have to go to work.”

  “Woman, you are insatiable! I’m just gonna have to marry you!”

  The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I’d said.

  Torrey froze.

  “What?”

  “Aw, hell. I’m sorry. It just sorta slipped out.”

  “So you were joking?”

  Was I?

  “It’s crossed my mind,” I answered, truthfully.

  “Oh my God!” she snorted, leaping off the bed as if she’d been stung. “Do you have any idea how crazy that is? We barely know each other! Marriage is big! Huge! Until death do us part-huge! I mean, fucking shit! We’ll both be leaving soon and … it’s just freakin’ crazy!”

  “Whoa, whoa! Slow down, Torrey! It’s marriage not a prison sentence!”

  “Same thing!” she snapped.

  “Not hardly,” I said, grimly, “and I think I know what I’m talkin’ about here.”

  She paused for just a moment before resuming her nervous babbling.

  “No, but … come on! It’s just … I mean, marriage is just … it drives people apart!”

  “I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work,” I smirked, amused to see her freaking out at a few words.

  “I’m serious, Jordan!” she yelped, hurling a pillow at me.

  I caught it before it took my head off.

  “I can see that you’re serious. All I’
m sayin’ is that you’re my dream woman. Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?”

  She stared at me, completely unaware that she was totally naked and utterly magnificent. She looked like a wild animal that had been cornered but was untamed. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she launched herself at me, teeth and claws flailing. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  “You … but … we … not…”

  “Just think about it. Mr. and Mrs. Ex-felon. It has a ring, don’t cha think?”

  “You are teasing me,” she said, dropping back onto the bed in relief.

  “No, firecracker. I’m givin’ you a get-out that you can live with. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d have me.”

  “I have to work tomorrow,” she said, faintly.

  “Why you so down on marriage, sweetheart?”

  She gave me a look that said, are you kidding me?

  “Was it that bad when you were growin’ up?”

  She sighed and snuggled up to me like a kitten, her claws retracted … for now.

  “No, it wasn’t all bad. They were happy once, I think. It’s almost like it fell apart so gradually, none of us realized until it was already really bad. The year before Mom decided to leave, that was horrible. They didn’t argue that much, there were just all these silences. I used to get so tense I could hardly eat. I lost so much weight, they ended up taking me to see a doctor, but I couldn’t say what the problem was, not with Mom sitting there.”

  I pulled her into my body, stroking her back, a strong need to protect flooding through me.

  “You’re only a lil’ bitty thing now.”

  “Big enough to kick your ass!” she snorted, biting my chest.

  “Okay, okay, you win! Don’t hurt me!” I laughed.

  She smirked and pretended to bite me again, instead turning it into a soft kiss.

  “When Mom finally left, I couldn’t help feeling like she’d chosen God over me. I didn’t get why she had to make a choice, or why God would want her to make that sort of choice. I still don’t get it. But I see how hard she works and how much it means to her. And I think she’s happier now. I know the choice wasn’t easy. It’s just that she made it, and everyone else had to face the consequences.”

  “Yeah,” I said, quietly, “I know what that’s like.”

  “What about your parents?” she asked, tracing a finger across my chest, and then following the lines of my armband tattoo.

  It signified mourning and was the first one I designed and the first one I had my buddy Styx ink.

  “They were mostly happy, I think. I mean, they had arguments like anyone else, mostly over stuff I’d gotten caught doing. I told you Mikey was the smart one—he never got caught.”

  That was so true—I couldn’t help smiling at the memory.

  “Hell, Momma was called up to the school just about every week because I’d gotten caught fightin’ or smokin’ or makin’ out with some girl in the janitor’s closet.”

  Torrey wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, really? That’s so not classy!”

  I shrugged and winked at her.

  “I was 15 when that happened. Mikey thought it was pretty funny. ‘Specially as we’d been caught, um, ya know, doin’ it. The girl’s father threatened to whup my ass. Momma was so embarrassed ‘cause it was someone she and Dad knew from church. It was Mikey’s fault. He was the one who’d told me to use that damned closet in the first place.”

  Torrey laughed. “I’ll stay away from closets when you’re around.” Then her face turned thoughtful. “What would you tell him, that teenager? What would you say to him?”

  “Christ, I don’t know. Don’t drink and drive? Don’t drink.”

  “Do you think he would have listened?”

  “Nah. I was so damn cocky … thought I knew the answer to every question, even before anyone had asked.”

  “Seriously, Jordan. If you met a kid like that now, how would you try to get through to him?”

  I thought about her question. Was there anything that could have stopped the 16-year-old me from taking the first step that led to Mikey dying?

  “I guess I’d take him to juvie, show him what that’s like. They did that when I was there—schools organized groups of kids who were gettin’ into trouble and then they’d march ‘em through. The kids would stare at us like we were animals in a zoo. I think that would have made an impression. Maybe.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember seeing a documentary about something like that in high school. Scared Straight I think it was called.”

  I didn’t reply but looked out of the window again, noticing that the moon was brighter and traveling steadily across the sky.

  I sighed. “I’ve gotta git now, Torrey. And I won’t see you tomorrow mornin’.”

  “Why not?” she pouted.

  “Gotta go see my parole officer. Usually she just talks for a while, but it can take longer if she’s feelin’ officious. I might have to wait. It’s first come, first served. Maybe I could come by the coffee shop after work?”

  She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Well, okay, I guess. But I can’t guarantee that Bev won’t try something—she thinks you’re pretty darn hot.”

  “You’ll protect me,” I smiled. “You’re my guardian angel.”

  “Aw, get out of here, you sap!” she laughed, throwing my t-shirt in my face.

  I tugged it over my head and found my pants under the bed, and then I leaned down to capture her soft lips one more time before I left.

  “See you soon, sweetheart.”

  “Bye, Jordan,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

  My feet dragged as I walked down the stairs. My heart and soul wanted to be up in that small bedroom with my girl. Because no matter how much she argued it, she was mine and I was hers. She just needed a little persuading of the fact.

  I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the front door was opening.

  “Jordan!” said Reverend Williams, her expression darkening with every second. “What are you doing here?”

  Crap.

  Torrey

  I was still recovering from Jordan’s workout when I heard voices at the bottom of the stairs. And I knew that there was only one person he could be speaking to. Holy hell. Mom had come back early.

  I glanced at the time on my cell phone. Oh. Not early. I’d just lost track of time while we’d been getting freaky between the sheets.

  Damn it! I’d hoped to put off telling her about him … me … us … for a while longer.

  I pulled my robe off of the hook and wrapped it around myself. I didn’t have time to dress, but even if I had, my flushed face and Jordan’s large presence would have painted a damn accurate picture.

  “What are you doing in my house?” Mom questioned, her tone upset.

  His reply was a low rumble, so I couldn’t hear how he answered her.

  “Torrey!” she called sharply.

  “On my way,” I grumbled.

  They were standing about five feet apart, Mom looking angry and shocked, Jordan looking tense, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  “Oh hey, Mom,” I said, as casually as I could manage. “How did your meetings go?”

  “Never mind that now. I’d like to know what’s been going on in my home while I’ve been out!”

  “You sure you want me to answer that, Mom?” I said, more cockily than I should have.

  Her face reddened.

  “I won’t put up with this!” she snapped. “I have a reputation in this community! I’m supposed to provide moral guidance. And yet, my own daughter is so disrespectful as to flagrantly pursue this … this immoral and hedonistic lifestyle in my own home!”

  Yeah, I shouldn’t have laughed.

  “Mom, really? Immoral and hedonistic?”

  “Reverend Williams…” Jordan began.

  “I’m talking to my daughter right now, Jordan,” Mom clipped out. “But I must say I’m very disappointed in you. I’ve given you every chance,
offered you every olive branch, and instead you just throw it back in my face. I’m going to have to reconsider my offer of employment—under the circumstances.”

  Jordan paled. We all knew that finding a job was a prerequisite of his parole.

  “That’s low, Mom!” I barked. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

  “Jordan, I’d like you to leave now,” said Mom, her voice struggling for control. “I need to talk to my daughter, and your curfew is far too close.”

  His face twisted with anxiety, and I thought he might argue, which would have made things worse.

  “It’s okay,” I said, quickly touching his arm. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  He kissed me quickly on the cheek. “I love you,” he said, softly.

  Mom’s eyes bulged, and I was pretty sure an aneurysm would be her next trick.

  Jordan closed the door quietly behind him.

  “Way to go, Mom,” I said, coldly. “I can’t believe you’d threaten him like that. He’s trying so hard.”

  “Then he should have thought about that before he slept with my daughter!”

  “Really? You want to play the parent card? I’m over 21, Mom. In fact I was 24 a few months back, if you remember. Yes, I drink alcohol. Yes, I’ve gambled in dens of iniquity. And yes, I’ve had sex with a really nice guy who just needs a break.”

  “You silly, silly girl!” she shouted. “You’re the first female who’s shown him any interest—the first he’s seen in eight years, and you’ve been using him for your own gratification. I’m ashamed of you! I cannot believe you’d be so thoughtless and selfish. Now he thinks he’s in love with you!”

  My face flushed with anger and guilt. In one way she was right: it had started out as gratification, but it had become much more than that.

  “You’re so wrong!” I hissed. “We … we have something special. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m willing to find out.”

  She fell back against the wall. “Oh no! You … you’re in love with him, too!”

  “God, Mom! No! Yes! Maybe, I don’t know. But what if I was? Does it really matter that much? He was a kid! He made a mistake. Yes, it was a terrible, terrible mistake, but he’s paid for it now. He’s trying to move on with his life. He deserves a fresh start. Surely, you of all people understand that?”