Dreamland(58)
“Of course it is.”
On my playlist, another song began. Morgan put her arms around my neck and I held her close, thinking how naturally her body seemed to fit with mine. Unconsciously, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, our bodies swaying in time.
“I remember you singing this song,” she murmured, “the first night I heard you play. I was spellbound.”
Outside, the wind continued to howl, and the rain continued to blow. The candles bathed the room in a golden glow. I caught the scent of Morgan’s perfume, something musky and alluring.
Morgan pressed into me, and when she lifted her gaze to meet mine, I traced the outline of her cheekbone with a finger. Our faces drew closer, our breathing slightly ragged but in nearly perfect harmony.
I kissed her then, hungry and nervous, and when our tongues came together, I felt a jolt run through me, electrifying every nerve. One of her hands trailed down my back and around my side, her touch so light it almost seemed as though it wasn’t happening. Her fingers eventually found the bottom of my shirt, and after a quick tug on it, her fingernails skimmed across my skin, the sensation making it almost impossible to breathe. Slowly, she traced the muscles of my abdomen and chest, even as her tongue continued to flicker against my own. Her breaths became shallow; her eyes were half closed, and I could only stare, in thrall to her sensuality. One by one she undid the buttons of my shirt, until it fell open. Pulling the shirt over my shoulders, she locked my arms in place, holding them there for a moment, as though teasing me, before finally allowing my shirt to fall free to the floor. She leaned in and kissed my chest, her mouth trailing upward to my neck. Her heated breath on my skin set my body to trembling, and I reached for the strap on her dress. She bit my neck softly before raising her mouth to mine again. I slid one strap down, followed by the other, then reached for the hem of her dress. Lifting the hem with my finger, I traced the inside of her thigh. I heard her gasp and felt her hand grip the back of my head. She began kissing me with even more passion then, and I found myself slipping away to the place I suddenly knew I was always meant to go. Slowly lowering the top of her dress, I slid it down her body and separated from her then, reveling in her beauty. When the dress hit the floor, I cupped my hands around her small waist, helping her step out of it, knowing I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything. Without another word, I picked up a single candle and led her to the bedroom.
Afterward, we lay beside each other without speaking for a long time, her body warm against my own, until finally she rolled to her side and we fell asleep spooning in the tangle of sheets.
Waking in the gray twilight of dawn, I kissed her tenderly, unable to hold the words inside any longer.
“I love you, Morgan,” I murmured into her ear.
Morgan merely smiled before opening her eyes and staring into my own.
“Oh, Colby,” she said, reaching up to touch my mouth. “I love you, too.”
The man in the truck had returned.
She tried to slow her breathing as she ducked behind the barn. What would have happened had he arrived ten minutes earlier, while she was in the house? Would he have seen her through the windows? Would he have opened her door? And what if she’d actually entered the barn and been discovered in the place she shouldn’t have been?
The burst of adrenaline made her stomach flip. She leaned against the plank siding and closed her eyes, thanking God she hadn’t been that stupid, that she’d decided to avoid the barn before it was too late.
I need to calm down so I can think, she told herself, closing her eyes. She hoped he hadn’t seen her, hoped he would believe she wasn’t home, so he would leave like he had the last time. She hoped he would leave before the school bus arrived….
Oh God…
Tommie…
Peering around the corner again, she saw the man standing on the porch, looking first one way and then the other. A moment later, he descended the steps and started toward the barn. Beverly flattened herself against the planking, staying perfectly still. She fought the urge to watch his approach.
She heard the barn doors squeak open. In her mind’s eye, she imagined him scanning the interior, making sure that nothing had been disturbed. She wondered if he’d done the same thing the day before, when she and Tommie were down at the creek, or whether he was in communication with the farmworkers, monitoring her routines.
Tommie…
Please let the bus be late today. She clenched her fists, waiting, until she heard the barn door squeak again, followed by the sound of it banging shut. She remained in place, hoping he wouldn’t circle the barn, wondering what he would do if he found her. She considered making a dash for the creek, but just as she psyched herself up to do so, she heard the truck door slam, followed by the engine cranking to life. Finally, she heard the crunch of the gravel as the truck backed out and vanished down the road.
Beverly stood there for what felt like eons, her breaths eventually beginning to slow, before gathering the courage to peek around the barn again. The truck was gone, and as far as she could tell, no one was lying in wait. There was no movement, but she lingered, just to be sure, and then she started running toward the house. She burst through the door, leaving it open, then tore up the stairs.
In Tommie’s room, the guns were right where she’d left them. It wasn’t possible to carry both the guns and the boxes of ammunition in just her hands, so, thinking quickly, she reached for Tommie’s pillow. Removing the pillowcase, she shoved the boxes of ammunition inside, then carefully lifted both guns from the floor by their stocks, keeping the barrels pointed toward the ground as she scooped up the pillowcase.