Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(37)



I hesitated. I could drink casually. I’d done it plenty. But sometimes I went too far even if I hadn’t meant to. Sometimes I fell into the black hole and started kicking away ancient grudges. I didn’t want Truly to see that. Hell no.

“Think I’ll stick with water.” She brought me the water, got a bowl of gumbo for herself and sat down across from me.

“So you want to be a fashion designer,” I said. Her dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? Isn’t that what you said before?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t think you were listening at the time.”

“I already told you, Truly. I’m always listening when you talk.”

She dropped her spoon into her bowl with a loud clatter.

“Creed.” She said my name as if it was a curse. I stopped chewing, wondering what the hell I’d done to piss her off. She leaned forward, the ends of her hair brushing the table while I waited for her to look at me again. When she did I saw that she wasn’t angry at all. She seemed nervous. “I’m starting to like you too much.”

“Who says?” I put my hand under her chin and moved in to gently kiss her lips. “Huh?”

We resumed eating in silence. Occasionally Truly would look my way, her dark eyes full of secrets. It was okay. I had a few of my own.

After we ate, Truly asked if I wanted to watch television. I didn’t, but I sat on the couch next to her anyway. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed happily as I flipped through the channels. I noticed her smile when I slipped my arm around her shoulders to hold her closer. I was reminded of Saylor and Cord.

“Do you like this show?” she asked. There were a bunch of scrawny women running around and screaming. Two of them began pulling each other’s hair.

“No.” I turned off the television. I touched the gauzy fabric of her skirt. “Do you make a lot of your own clothes?”

“I used to. I would scour eBay for vintage patterns and spend just about every spare penny on fabric.”

“Used to? You don’t anymore?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “I had to sell my sewing machine about a year ago. As soon as I can scrape together enough tip money I’ll get another one. I miss sewing. It’s such a basic pleasure, creating something pretty. When I was about eight my mom dumped us off with our great grandmother for a few weeks. I don’t know where the hell she went during that time but it’s not important. Granny June was a doll. She was the one who taught me how to piece quilts and how to follow a garment pattern. She had this ancient Singer treadle.”

My fingers played in Truly’s hair as she talked. “She had a what?”

Truly glanced up at me with a stunning smile. “Treadle machines came before electric ones. Granny June said hers was from the early nineteen hundreds. It was bolted into a table and sat about this high.” She sat up and started using her hands to explain what she was talking about. “There was this big flat pedal underneath and the machine sewed as fast as your foot pumped.”

“Is that like the one you had?”

“No,” she sighed. “I had a new model electric one. Did embroidery and everything. It was a good machine, but I never stopped pining for Granny June’s treadle. I’ll get one someday.”

When she settled against me again I started running my hands over her legs. I parted her knees and got on the floor between them.

“You don’t say much,” she whispered as my hands went higher and her legs spread wider.

“You want to talk some more right now?” I asked as my thumb went inside her and began moving.

She arched towards me. “Mmm. Maybe not now.” She leaned back and I pushed another finger inside of her. “You didn’t let me finish my sentence though.”

With my other hand I started unbuttoning her blouse. “Finish it then.”

She gasped a little when I moved my hand to her lower back and pushed her forward as my other hand stayed firmly between her legs. I was pressing her between my hands and she loved it.

“Dammit,” she breathed, holding onto my shoulders. “I meant that you don’t say much, Creed.” She bit her lip as her body began to clench involuntarily. “But when you do, it really counts.”

I watched her face as she got off on my hand. She always kept her eyes closed and a deep flush rose from her neck to her forehead. When she was done I picked her up in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed and pushed her hands away.

“Let me do this,” I said hoarsely and she relaxed, keeping her arms at her sides. I forced myself to go slowly as I stripped everything off her. I liked letting it build like this. Every new inch of Truly’s exposed skin made my pants a little tighter. She watched as I made short work of my own clothes and climbed on top of her. Her legs went around me eagerly and I pounded her sexy body until I couldn’t breathe.

The damn cat scared the living hell out of me when it leapt onto the bed.

“Jesus!” I yelled, jumping off.

Truly laughed and pulled the thing into her arms. “You’re scaring her.”

“Fuck that. She scared me first.”

The cat licked her lips. Truly kissed her on the top of her head and gently put her on the floor. “Go on now, Dolly.”

Dolly strutted past me and through the door. I slammed it shut behind her.

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