Bare Yourself (Consumed)

I’m disappointed when she doesn’t have time to answer before Beatrice comes back with our food. I’m dying to know what she’s thinking. Are her feelings just as strong as mine? I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling for her, but I know it goes way beyond just physical attraction. I want more than just sex with her. I want to know every facet of her and for her to know every facet of me. I think about her all the time, even when I try not to. She’s invaded my brain, and I know it won’t be long before she invades other parts of me. Vital parts of me.

We all sit around the half-empty diner, enjoying our food and talking bullshit. Willow tries to snag a bit of my pie when Beatrice drops it off, but I slide the plate away.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” I taunt, slipping a bite of the best damn coconut cream pie into my mouth. “Mmm,” I moan.

“Asshole. Gimme a bite.” She tries again to dig her fork in, but I bat her hand away.

“Nah-uh. What will you give me for it?” I take another bite and close my eyes.

“Hey, Beatrice,” Abby calls.

“What do you need, sweetie?” she yells from behind the counter.

“Do you have any more of that coconut cream pie?” Abby asks, sliding her eyes my way without turning her head. She’s silently laughing at me, so I give her a glare.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. That was the last piece.” My glare turns into a chuckle. “But we have a couple of the chocolate mousse.”

“It’s not as good,” I mumble quietly around a mouthful.

“That’s okay, Beatrice, but thank you anyway.” Abby looks at Willow with an apology. “Sorry. I tried.”

“No worries.” Willow smiles. A second later, I feel a hand grab my dick through my jeans and give it a firm squeeze. Not to hurt, but to distract. I choke on my pie and my fork clunks to the plate. Willow takes advantage of my surprise and snatches the plate from my hand. She has a bite in her mouth before I realize what happened.

“Hey! Give that back!” I demand.

“What will you give me for it?”

She has whipped cream on the corner of her mouth, so I reach over and lick it off for her.

“I’ll fuck you right here bent over this table.”

Her eyes widen, and it’s my turn to snatch the plate away. She pouts when she realizes she no longer has the pie. I take pity on her and scoop up a bite with my fork and offer it to her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but that’s all you get. The rest is mine.”

She sticks out her tongue at me. “Fine. Have your pie and eat it too.”

“I will, thank you.”

Everyone around us laughs. I fucking love my life.

I end up giving Willow two more bites of pie. She doesn’t realize it, but I’d give her every slice I could find of Suzie’s homemade pies, if it brought the same smile to her face that she’s wearing right now.

I steer Willow away from my truck with my arm around her shoulders. We just left my friends behind at Suzie’s and there’s something I want to do.

“Where’re we going?”

I keep walking. “To the park.”

“Umm… okay.” She looks around the lightly wooded area. “Why?”

I keep my answer vague. “I want to watch the ducks in the pond.” I laugh when she gives me a doubtful look. “You’ll see.”

We walk past empty picnic tables until we reach the pond. There are several ducks in the water. The pond isn’t big and has benches and picnic tables all around it. The sun’s just starting to set, but there’s still plenty of light, and there’re only a few adults scattered about. I spot what I’m looking for and lead Willow over to a picnic table close to the edge of the water. This table works perfectly for what I want to do, because the distance from one side to the other is shorter.

I straddle the bench and pull her down beside me so she’s sitting just inside the V of my legs. I place my arm on the table along her back. Both of us watch the ducks as they glide across the glassy water.

“Tell me something about you,” I say into the silence.

Willow looks over at me. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything. What were you like as a kid?”

“Okay. Hmm… I was pure tomboy. Always climbing trees and playing war in the woods surrounding the neighborhood. My mom was constantly bandaging up scrapes and cuts. I didn’t play with dolls like most girls. I liked plastic guns and GI Joes.” Her expression turns sad, and she looks down at her hands. The look disappears and a soft smile takes its place. I wonder what she was just thinking.

“Minnie and I have been friends since we were two years old. She was my polar opposite. She was the girly girl to my tomboy. I wore jeans with worn-out knees. She wore skirts. My hair was thrown into a simple ponytail and hers was done up in pigtails with ribbons. My favorite color was anything but red and pink, while hers were red and pink.”

“Why did you look sad a minute ago?” I ask.

She swallows and looks out over the pond again.

“Because Minnie and I had another friend. His name was Bryan. The three of us were always together.”

I pick up a lock of her hair and twirl it around my finger. Her hair is so soft.

“What happened to him?”

“He changed.” Her eyes glisten with tears and it makes my heart hurt for her. “In college, he started hanging out with the wrong people, got into drugs, and became someone I didn’t want to know anymore.”

“Were you and he… together?” I have to work at keeping my voice neutral, when all I want to do is growl and punch something.

Willow laughs and the expression on her face says it all. I mentally breathe out a sigh of relief. I’ve got no right to be pissed over anyone she’s slept with in the past, but it still brings on my anger. It’s impossible, but for some insane reason, I want to be remembered as her first and only lover.

“No. Even the thought of that is laughable. He was—” She hesitates, looks at me from the corner of her eye, then continues. “—like a brother to me. It was always him and Minnie though.”

I rest my hand on her thigh; she’s wearing another skirt, so it meets warm, smooth flesh.

“It’s hard to imagine you as a tomboy, wearing jeans and T-shirts. You wear skirts so damn well.”

She snickers. “Once I hit puberty, my hormones went wild. I started noticing things about me and about other girls. Mainly, how other boys looked at girls in skirts, wearing makeup, and doing their hair fancy. Up until that point, the thought of boys being anything other than friends was disgusting to me. But then I saw them differently, and I wanted them to look at me differently. So I started wearing skirts and pretty little shirts and tried to look like all the other girls.”

I let my thumb run across the skin of her thigh. Goose bumps appear and it sends a twitch to my dick.

“I would have noticed you, whether you wore jeans, a skirt, or a fucking nun’s habit. I guarantee I would have stopped at nothing to get underneath your clothes.” To punctuate this, I let my hand run up her leg until it disappears under her skirt. I stop just short of reaching where I want to touch the most.

I lean over and nip at her ear. “Look across the lake.” I know she does what I ask, because her sharp intake of breath tells me so. “What are they doing?”

When we first got here, I noticed two young guys across the lake. They’re going to be our audience.

“One’s fishing and one’s reading a book,” she says in a breathless voice.

“Keep watching them and tell me if they look this way,” I order.

Her skirt draws up her legs as I bring my hand up. My fingers meet soft wet silk, and I groan because she’s already so damn wet. My girl loves showing off just as much as I love showing her off.

I watch the expression on her face but also keep an eye on our surroundings as I glide my fingers over the smooth material. She pants and latches on to my hand when I run the pad of my finger along the edge of her panties. I think she’s going to push my hand away, but she doesn’t, she just leaves it there, letting me do what I want.

I dig my fingers beneath the edge of her panties and they glide through the slipperiness of her arousal. My dick throbs to the tune of my heartbeat when I meet her clit. I flick it with my finger a few times and she draws in a deep breath, then releases it on a low moan. I widen my legs and scoot closer to her. Lifting the leg closest to me, I put it over my thigh. Her skirt still covers her, but just barely.

I latch my lips just below her ear at the same time I push one finger in her.