Marie Sexton - Promises

“My God, you’re heavy! What the hell are you doing?”

His body was all muscle and sweat, and his eyes were flashing green as he laughed down at me. “Rubbing dirt on it!” And he proceeded to grab a handful of it and smear it all over my arm. It hurt like hell, but at the same time, it was strangely erotic, having him on top of me like that, and it left me feeling slightly aroused and incredibly off balance.

When we reached the top of the trail, we took off our helmets, dropped our bikes, and stood on the summit, looking down at the valley below us. The sun was golden, the sky brilliant blue. The light breeze was filled with the smell of the evergreens around us. The aspens were changing, making bright patches of amber, orange, and magenta within the green. It was a perfect moment, standing there next to him, covered in sweat and dirt and blood, seeing the glory of the Rocky Mountains around us.

I turned to look at him, to see if he felt it too, and found that he wasn’t seeing it at all. He was looking at me. His head was cocked a little to the side, like something was puzzling him, and he was smiling a little. But the thing that really startled me was his eyes. If I had ever imagined him looking at me like that, it had only been in my sweetest dreams.

He reached up, over my shoulder to my hair. Was the whole world in slow motion? I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. There was a tug, and I realized he had pulled the rubber band free. Then his fingers were pushing up against my scalp and into my hair. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes closed. I don’t know how long we stood like that. It felt like forever. It felt like only a heartbeat.

“Lizzy’s wrong. You definitely shouldn’t cut it.”

His hand was gone, and when I opened my eyes, he was heading back to his bike. But he gave me his brilliant smile—would I ever get used to seeing it?—when he turned to look at me. “Last one down pays for dinner.”

“ALL right, Jared! Spill!”

I turned to see Lizzy grinning at me, her blue eyes practically glowing with mischievous anticipation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that. You can’t wander around here all day with your head in the clouds and a perma-grin on your face and expect me to believe that there’s nothing going on. So—spill!”

I knew she was right. I felt like I had been floating a foot above ground all day.

“I’m just having a good day.”

“It’s Matt, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Well, no. Not exactly.”

“What is it then, exactly?”

I didn’t know what to say, but I knew my ridiculous grin was bigger than ever.

“Please tell me he’s finally coming around?”

“Well, I don’t want to get your hopes up too high”—or my own—“but I actually think there’s a ghost of chance.”

She squealed and threw her arms around my neck. She had caught me a little off guard. One arm was pinned to my side by her round belly, and her hair was in my mouth. “That’s so great, Jared!”

The bell over the door rang, and Matt walked in. “What are you two so happy about?”

I knew my cheeks were bright red, but Lizzy was smooth as always. “Jared was just telling me that he plans to baby sit for us one night a week after the baby is born so that Brian and I can go out. Isn’t that nice of him?” Did I say smooth? I don’t think that quite covers it. She had managed to answer him without embarrassing me and had secured herself a weekly date night all in one stroke. You had to admire her. “So Matt, did Jared tell you about his birthday?”

“No.” He looked at me expectantly.

“It’s still two weeks away,” I told him.

“It’s September twenty-first,” Lizzy said. “I’m making dinner. You’ll come, right?”

He looked right at me and said, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

DURING the two weeks leading up to my birthday, my confusion continued to grow. Matt spent every single evening at my house. He slept on my couch as often as he went home, although he was always gone by the time I dragged my lazy ass out of bed in the morning. He even bought a toothbrush to keep at my house. I tried to tell myself it was only because he didn’t want to go home to his sterile, empty apartment. I mostly believed it. But was I imagining that he was watching me more, touching me when he didn’t need to? Many nights as we watched TV on my couch, I would feel that gentle tug on the back of my head. It was a form of torture, but one that I looked forward to every day.

Matt worked on my birthday but was done at five. He picked me up, and we went to Lizzy’s house for dinner.

It was a strange night. As the hours passed, he was moving closer, a heat burning in his eyes that I had seen before, in other men’s eyes, but not for a long time. It seemed like he couldn’t stop touching me. Taken individually, they were just casual touches on my arm, or my shoulder, or my back. He touched my hair a lot too. It was feeling less casual by the minute. With anybody else, I would have known exactly what it meant. With him, I had no idea.

Even my family noticed. I saw Mom’s small, knowing smile and Brian’s uneasy bemusement. And how could I miss Lizzy’s ear-to-ear grin or the goofy thumbs-up she gave me behind his back? But he still seemed to be blind to what he was doing. I had been partially erect all night and hoping that nobody had noticed.

At the end of the night, Lizzy declared us both unfit to drive and gave us a ride back to my house. By the time we pulled up in front of my house, my head was spinning. I had heard that term before but had never really understood it until now.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. Probably he would just drink another beer and then crash on my couch. But part of me knew that we were on a precipice, looking down. We either had to turn around and walk away or take a deep breath and jump. My hands were shaking so much that it took me three tries to get the key in the lock. He was contentedly humming behind me, swaying on his feet a little, and I don’t think he noticed.

I finally got us inside and made a break for the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll get us something to drink.” I got glasses out of the cabinet and beers out of the fridge, took an ice tray out of the freezer, and stood there, staring down at them, not really knowing what I was going to do next. Normally I would just grab two bottles of beer out of the fridge, but I was flustered and trying desperately to buy enough time to regain some equilibrium. I didn’t hear him come in. Just suddenly felt him behind me, his hands on my waist. It made me a little breathless, feeling him so big and solid against my back. Didn’t he know what he was doing to me?

But his voice in my ear wasn’t the sexy drawl of a lover. It was the same casual, bantering voice he always used. “What are you doing in here?” He leaned against me harder as he reached out with one hand and picked up one of the bottles. “Who ordered beer on the rocks?” I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he had one eyebrow cocked.

“I’m, uh, I’m not sure.” I was stammering like an idiot, trying to think about football or mountain bikes or anything but how close he was. He put the beer down, and his weight against my back lessened some, but his left hand was back on my waist. His right hand slid up and over to rest on my stomach, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Hey,” he actually sounded a little concerned now. “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

I laughed nervously. “No kidding?”

“No kidding. What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath and said, “Matt, you may not realize it, but you’re sending me some seriously mixed signals here. I’m not quite sure how you want me to react.”

“What do you mean?” And man, that really did sound like genuine confusion in his voice. But he still hadn’t moved.

“I mean this, Matt. The way you’re touching me.”

“Oh.” I knew without looking that his cheeks were turning red. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I don’t want you to stop. But, I think maybe you should.”

“What? Why?” Confused. But then as realization hit, “Oh!” But he didn’t move. A second passed, and then his hand moved a little higher, toward my chest. His weight against my back increased, and his voice had gone low and husky when he said in my ear, “Am I turning you on?”

“God, yes, you’re turning me on!” It came out a little harsh, but I was relieved to get it out. “Is that what you want?”

He froze for a minute, and his breath in my ear was a little bit shaky. “I don’t really know.” Another shaky breath and his hands fell away, and I felt him step back. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” But when I turned around, I realized he had only taken a half-step back. He was only a foot away from me. His cheeks were flushed, and he was obviously as shaken as I was.

For a minute, neither of us moved. I was trying to catch my breath and convince my cock that there was nothing of interest going on. It wasn’t listening. My whole body was shaking, and my voice came out raspy. “Okay, well—”

I stopped short when he suddenly stepped forward again. My back was against the counter. My fingers had a death grip on its edge. He was so close. He was looking at me, frowning, his head cocked a little to the side like he was trying to figure something out. Like I was some kind of puzzle that he almost had the answer to. Then, slowly, he put both hands on the countertop, one on either side of me, pinning me in. “Matt?” It came out barely a whisper.

I could definitely see the green in his eyes tonight. They were full of surprise and confusion, but there was something else there too. “I guess I just want to touch you.” One hand came off the counter, onto my hip. “I think”—he sounded amazed—“I really like touching you.” Now his hand was sliding up my arm. His lips were only an inch away from mine. My whole body felt electric, like every nerve was straining toward him. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

I gave up, closed my eyes, relaxed against his tall, strong body, and thought about nothing but how good his hand felt. “Yes.”

He put his hand in my hair, pulling lightly on the curls. For a moment I only felt

fingers moving through my hair. Then he grabbed a handful of it and pulled my head back so that my neck was exposed. He leaned over and put his lips against my neck. Soft lips and rough stubble brushed up to my jaw and moved toward my ear. I was sure my heart was going to pound its way right out of my chest. Or that my cock was going to burst through the buttons on my jeans. His lips brushed my ear, and he whispered, “I just want to touch you a little more.”

I wanted to tell him that he never had to stop, but I couldn’t speak. I was afraid that if I touched him back, the spell would somehow be broken. But I reached out and put one hand on his flat stomach. He responded by wrapping his other arm around my waist. His tongue touched my ear. His cheek was like sandpaper against my own. I pulled up his shirt, slid my hands underneath, and ran them up his back. I felt the hard muscles there jump under my fingers, and he made a little moan against my neck that went straight to my groin.

I hadn’t thought there was any space left between us, but he managed to push closer. The entire length of my body was against his. His arms were tight around me, one hand wandering up and down my back, the other still tangled in my curls. I felt his lips on my neck. Not just brushing over the skin, like before. He was really kissing me now, nipping at my neck, his tongue flicking over my pounding pulse. Then both of his hands were on my hips, pulling my groin harder against his, and I felt his erection grinding against my own.

I heard myself moan, or maybe it was more of a whimper. Whatever it was, he obviously liked it, because the gentle nibbles on my neck suddenly became something much more insistent. He put both hands into my hair. All of his weight was against me now, holding me against the counter. He was pulling harder on my hair, pushing his hips into mine, and whatever he was doing to my neck was bordering on painful, but I definitely didn’t want it to stop.

It took me a couple of tries, but I finally managed to whisper, “Do you want to go in the bedroom?”

Me and my big mouth.

He froze, a breathing statue with both hands still tangled in my hair, and his lips still warm against my neck. “Matt?”

And then he let me go. Before I knew it, he was on the other side of the room. I was reeling. I felt like half of my body had just been ripped away.