Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(28)

Then Saylor McCann showed up in our lives again and Cordero was done. I knew it even before he laid a hand on her. Good for him, I’d thought at the time. He’d beaten the Gentry bullshit and found a nice girl who thought he hung the f*cking moon.

I didn’t realize Truly had opened her eyes to watch me. She started to say something then stopped, choosing instead to reach out and touch the side of my face. Then she leaned in close and kissed me. It wasn’t a rapid fire passionate kiss like it had been earlier. It was slow, lazy. I rolled on top of her. Our lips played, our tongues teased. Her fingers stroked my neck and at one point I backed away a few inches so I could look at her. Her eyes were soft and tender. Then she pulled her knees up on either side of me because she felt me getting hard again. It was slow that time. Then later, it was rough again.

For the second time in a little over a week I did something I never had the urge to do. I fell asleep with a girl in my arms and woke up happy that she was still there.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Truly



The first time I spent the night with Creed Gentry I’d never known anything so filthy or so good. And then the next morning I took a long look at him. I remembered everything I’d assumed; that Creedence was a vulgar playboy without a whole lot going on behind those deep blue eyes. The fact that he’d given me the most intense sexual experience I’d ever known seemed beside the point.

The second night was still filthy. The way we enjoyed each other was incredible in a way I’d only heard about. He couldn’t do enough to me.

“What’s up with this?” he asked somewhere around the fifth time we’d crashed together in some way. We were lying on his bed, both covered in sweat. Creed was touching the side of my head.

“Nothing,” I said, pushing my thick black hair over the area I’d shaved in an emotional fit some months earlier. It was growing back but still showed if I didn’t take care to cover it.

Creed rested his chin on my chest. He looked very young and very serious.

I sighed. “I was just having a bad day, that’s all.”

He nodded as if he knew exactly what I meant. “I get those.”

I believed that about him. When we’d held hands in the parking lot outside the stadium I started to think that the connection between us might, just might, be more than physical.

My fingertips traveled lightly over his shoulders, then down his arms. There wasn’t an inch on that man that wasn’t rock solid. He had to be a strong bastard, likely able to take just about anything apart with his bare hands.

Still, the way he stared at me was almost gentle, patient. Suddenly Creed seemed nothing like the gruff character I’d thought he was. It gave me the courage to keep talking.

“My mama used to say, ‘A girl comes to bad ends when she doesn’t feel pretty on the inside.’ When I was little we lived for a time in a cottage shack next to an old South Carolina farmhouse. Now that I’m really thinking on it I believe it was actually a relic of plantation days.” I cleared my throat and sat up a little. “Right out back was this gorgeous magnolia tree that was planted by some dead ancestor whose ugly face was painted on a wall in the big house. My sisters and I would sneak out there every chance we got and pluck the waxy blossoms off. You ever smell a magnolia blossom? It’s so close to heaven it’ll hurt your heart. The lady of the house would get all kinds of excited about our grubby little hands touching her sacred tree. She thought we were the devil’s brood anyway, on account of her being a church lady and us having different fathers. Mama came out one day to find us being chased off and she got mad. She took us outside late that summer night with a big barrel she’d scavenged and had us girls pick off every flower we could reach. By the time we were done that thick magnolia smell was in our hair and all over our little bodies. It seemed like that’s the way the world would smell forever. When we got inside, Mama soaked a pile of magnolia petals and told us to drink the water. Those flowers are edible, you know. She said it would make us feel all pretty inside and it was a feeling we ought to remember when days turned sour, as days will sometimes do…” My voice trailed off since Creed had rolled away and was lying on his back with his eyes closed. I pulled the blanket over my bare breasts feeling suddenly, and acutely, naked.

“Why’d you stop talking?” he asked with a slight frown.

“I thought you were done listening.”

Creed opened his eyes. “No. I’m always listening.”

“Oh, well that’s the end of the story anyway. It’s just that on the day I picked up the razor I forgot what it meant to feel pretty inside.” I touched my hair. “I should cut it all off so it’s one length, let it grow back proper.”

Creed grunted and then suddenly grabbed me, pulling me on top of him. He grabbed handfuls of my hair and studied me intently.

“Don’t you dare do that, Truly.” He kissed me, either to smother any objection I might raise or just because he simply wanted to. I felt him pulling on another condom.

“Get on top of me,” I begged.

He rolled me over, sliding inside easily. I loved the feel of his weight. It was an odd mix of helplessness and security, being pinned beneath a strong man as he took what he wanted from your body.

Just as I was reaching my climax I heard voices in the hallway and realized Saylor and Cord had returned home. I buried my face in Creed’s neck to avoid crying out. We came together in gasping fury and I felt like my chest might cave from the sheer weight of him.