Dusty
Dusty
Song: Dusty, by Kings of Leon
Chapter 5
Long shadows fell on the ground, colouring the world in purple and cerulean. The sun was slowly setting behind the weeping willows and ash trees. Bugs came out in force, crawling and flying over the water.
The old radio was playing oldies music, and true to himself, Caleb caught her in his arms, and they danced—he, naked, and she wearing her dress, but per his request, she kept it unbuttoned. Nothing was said. No promises were made. No declarations were announced. Their closeness, the fusion of their bodies and thoughts and souls was not tarnished or complicated by the consummation of their relationship.
She appreciated the fact that he made it normal. That there were no strange pauses or uncomfortable silences between them. For some reason, this post-coital calmness was the best indicator of his love for her. She couldn’t have asked for more. When he cradled her in his arms after withdrawing from her, when he kissed her so tenderly and lovingly, when they lay together in silent satisfied appreciation of each other, when he put his heavy head on her breast and dozed off for a little while—all made her love him even more than before. And whatever he was feeling for her, was close enough to love for him to deny it.
When he slept, she liked watching him, because there was a softness and an innocence in his features that one did not see when he was awake. Even when he was gentle and playful with her, she knew that in the same breath, he could turn to one of his brothers and stare them down with his “death stare” of disappointment and annoyance. But asleep, he was a boy, with his face round and his mouth soft, and his face betraying his 25 years.
“Hey you,” sea blue eyes opened slowly and he inhaled at her skin. She was warm and smelled of grass and hay and perfume. She smiled and ran her hand over his head. He reached up from her breast and kissed her slowly, lazily and deeply.
“Sorry for falling asleep,’ he muttered then.
He rolled over her and slipped between her legs, his hands smoothing over her thighs, his chest crushing her breasts softly. With a swoop of his chest, he moved them, kissing her insatiably, cradling her head in his arms.
“We dance?” he then proposed enthusiastically.
She laughed at his eagerness and nodded.
“Let me put my dress on,”
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “You are not dressing! I am going to be a-rubbin’ my cock all over your belly.”
“I am not dancing naked!” she argued. “And you know how to express yourself so eloquently!”
“I don’t know nothing about that, but unless you want me to throw your dress in the creek, you are dancing naked!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Wouldn’t I?” he challenged, and she gripped her dress, pulling it from him hands. She knew that he would.
“All right, all right! You are an ass!” she hissed. He laughed loudly, nodding.
“You should really do as your man says,” he recommended with utmost seriousness.
“Oh, you think?” she rolled her eyes, “any other suggestions?”
“Nah. At least you didn’t argue that I was your man,” he noted.
At last, he relented, and allowed her to wear her dress, but he kept it open, his hot hands resting on her body, his member moulding into her belly, just like he promised. She loved feeling her nipples brush against the hair of his chest, how his pelvis pressed into her stomach, how his fingers pushed into her flesh and the way he kissed her, when they swayed together to the melodies that came out of the old radio. His cheeky, mischievous grin lightened his face almost the entire time, and she was happy to see him so at ease with life and with himself.
At last, the wind picked up and the shadows told them that it was time to leave.
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to him, swaying them both in his embrace.
“You are good to me,” he murmured in her hair. “I don’t know if I deserve it. But I am happy.”
She kissed his neck softly, and didn’t pull away until her tears dried on her eyelashes. She didn’t want him to see it. But when he finally separated from her a little, just to button her dress up, before he put on his jeans, he brushed his thumbs over her eyes and kissed her lips.
“I am sorry that I can’t be a better man to you. But I will try to be as good as I can be.”
She didn’t answer.
They gathered their belongings, and she noticed him slip his white handkerchief with which he had wiped her blood into the pocket of his jeans. He caught her surprised glance and shrugged awkwardly.
“I am going to keep it,” he said. “It’s a memory that I want to preserve.”
“Weirdo,” she chuckled.
He smiled.
“You are not the first one to say that to me.”
Then he came closer and his large hand slipped between her thighs. The backs of his fingers slid back and forth over her folds. The gesture produced a strangled sigh from him and a shudder from her.
“How are you?” he muttered, “down there? It hurts?”
She gripped his upper arm, her fingers leaving white marks on his tanned skin.
He steadied her with his other hand, pushing himself closer, until she felt the heat of him rise against her belly.
“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt much,” she whispered.
He kissed her neck, letting his teeth sink deep into her sensitive flesh.
“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he growled, his wet breath making her weak at the knees, his erection becoming more pronounced at the pit of her stomach.
“Caleb…we can…I want you just as much,” she admitted breathlessly, kissing his freckled nose, seeing that he is not the cocky brash man that he could be, but a desperate man who was blinded by his need and desire for her.
He shook his head stubbornly and said,
“No. We’ll wait. Don’t want you hurting too much. Otherwise, you might not enjoy it next time…And…” he swallowed, as his wicked fingers slipped inside of her and pushed at her clit, “I want to have you moaning under me like you did. I want you to come every single time.”
His other hand slipped against her breast, cupping it, feeling its weight and the immediate response that his fingers brought. His fingertips squeezed her nipple and twisted it along with the material of her dress.
“Don’t tell anyone about us,” she begged. “Not Nate, not anyone…Not Nacho. It has to be you and me for a little while. Just the two of us. They’ll know eventually.”
He nodded and released her from his lusty grip.
“But you have to live with me,” he ordered, “you can’t go anywhere. You can stay in the guest room, as usual, as if nothing’s happened. But you can’t go home.”
She nodded in agreement. Leaving now was unfathomable. She’d have to figure things out as she went along, but right now, only one thing mattered and it was Caleb.
He cupped her face in his hand and murmured,
“You’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay. Of course.”
…”We were about to send a rescue party for you two,” muttered Nathan when they had arrived back to the house, hand in hand.
He looked over Caleb’s catch and shook his head in disgust,
“That’s all?!?! That’s all you managed? Good thinking to have hot dogs and steaks in the house. I sure wasn’t feeling going out tonight.”
“Fish wasn’t biting,” lied Caleb and then went directly to the kitchen, pretending to be busy with dinner.
Nathan didn’t let up.
“Nice afternoon?” he asked her.
“Not bad,” she said vaguely.
“Clearly…Since you lost your bra somewhere on the way.”
She blushed, but then said,
“Bras have a way of getting lost…Besides, how is it any of your business exactly?”
“Caleb is right, you have a mouth on you,” huffed Nathan.
“If Caleb doesn’t like it, I don’t have to come here,” she shrugged.
“No, do!” he begged quickly, “he is much more pleasant with you around. Doesn’t bite Jared’s head off at every turn. And none of us are covered in bruises!”
“Boys are weird,” she decided and made her way to the kitchen.
BettyAnn was bustling about the stove, and the ultra hyper Sir Leonardo was in everyone’s way. Sir Leonardo trotted to her and buried his face in her ankle.
“See, he loves you!” chirped BettyAnn. She trusted Sir Leonardo’s opinion implicitly. She also liked her broody son’s new love interest, but didn’t know quite what to make of her. She didn’t fit any of the predictable molds. But Caleb was somehow a different man with his new girl—a little gentler and softer than usual, and BettyAnn liked to see him happy.
As promised, proprieties were kept up. Caleb cooked the meat, BettyAnn took care of the sides, Jared, Sir Leonardo and BettyAnn’s husband were all equally useful at doing nothing and making snide comments. She set the table, suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of emotions—annoyance, sadness, glee, anticipation, depression, hope. All kinds of fears assaulted her brain, mostly because Caleb was so unemotional towards her. He joked with the boys, talked to his mother and step-father, played with the dog, and barely glanced at her. Dinner was a usual noisy affair, with Caleb presiding and saying Grace before the meal began.
She ate little, suddenly fatigued from all the thoughts and experiences of the past day, her womb feeling re-arranged, painful, yet yearning for that one experience again, an aching ball of desire sitting in the pit of her stomach and bringing bright colour to her cheeks. BettyAnn noticed, and asked, “Are you feeling all right, hon’? You are all red? Are you running a fever?” before putting her hand to her forehead. “Overheated in the sun,” she managed to answer and took a big gulp of ice water. After everyone finished their ice cream, the men dispersed, beers in hand. Their laugh and jokes were soon heard outside, where some new game was commencing.
“You do good by Tony,” said BettyAnn, when the two of them cleared the table. “There are a lot of pressures on him, with this band and things…It’s good that he has you to come home to.”
She wished that it was so, but Tony was very cool towards her the entire evening. She kept telling herself that it was all for show, that she herself asked for their relationship to remain a secret, yet she was acutely aware of how well he played his role.
“I’ll go upstairs, BettyAnn,” she said once the dishes were loaded in the dishwasher, “good night. Maybe I am getting a bit sick, I don’t know. I am tired.”
Upstairs, she occupied the largest guest room in the house. Only Caleb and Nathan really lived here, with the other two boys having houses closer to BettyAnn. The ever-present Nacho also spent a lot of time here, but he had his own place and has been out with a girl this evening.
She undressed and climbed into the shower, the scene of Caleb hiding his handkerchief that was stained with her blood in his pocket flashing before her eyes. She hated washing off the smell of him from her body, because it was something that saturated her skin and lingered in her nostrils the entire day, and something that made their encounter real. And now, as she wiped soapy foam off her arms, she found herself crying foolishly, her tears mingling with the water, the scent of Caleb fading into the warmth of the steam.
She only had the one granny nightgown, something that she picked up at Wal-Mart, on the day when Caleb told her that she’d be staying over at the ranch and that she should have clothes on hand. They were driving from Nashville and he pulled over and kissed her deeply and warmly, telling her that he didn’t want her to leave his sight and that she should really live with him at the ranch. She didn’t commit to something so drastic, but did bring clothes here, just as he requested. As she climbed in bed, she heard their voices outside, his smoky, soft, gravelly laugh and her insides churned with desire and dismay. Why wasn’t he here, with her? Clearly because it was over. She actually considered getting her stuff and leaving right this minute, but then she didn’t want to create a scene and so she stayed still, tears rolling down her cheeks.
The weight in her bed woke her, even before the steel-like rods of Caleb’s arms scooped her body to him. Her eyes flew open and then closed, as his lips descended on hers and he captured them in an impatient, bruising, almost brutal kiss. His warm naked body enveloped her, as he shifted his weight and crushed her into the mattress, keeping her immobile beneath him. His large, expert hands stroked her arms, which were thrown around his neck, as she pushed herself into him, lips fused together to the point of pain.
‘Girl, what is it?” he pulled away, his face a mask of confusion in the twilight of grainy darkness around them. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?”
Truthfully, she was so overwhelmed with relief that tears were a secondary response to her happiness.
His thumbs brushed her face, her eyes and he kissed her gently,
“What’s up? Knocked up already, and going all crazy and emotional on me?”
She laughed and he smiled a long, mischievous smile.
“So certain of your virility?” she asked, kissing his chin.
“Well, what the fuck else can cause you to turn on the waterworks?”
“I don’t know,” she held onto his arm, just to make sure that he didn’t get up and leave. “I thought…ahhh…I don’t even know what I thought…”
“Stupid,” he shrugged. “I know what you thought. Stupid, stupid. Anyway, while you are sitting here and freaking out, I went out and cut you some flowers.”
She noticed a humble, if large heap of field flowers spread on the bed.
“Now don’t be afraid…” she muttered with a smile.
He chuckled and then pulled the blanket off her. Her white cotton nightgown had risen and twisted around her waist, and she lay still, her long slim thighs exposed to his wandering gaze.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his breath warm on her shoulder, his hand sliding around her thigh, raising his leg slightly, spreading her. “Do you know what it took me not to throw you down on the dinner table and get inside of you in front of everyone! Torture…The way your breasts were swelling in your dress…” he licked his lips and took her in the crook of his arm, pressing her closer to his chest, until her cheek brushed against his nipple.
“That’s not what I thought was on your mind at all,” she admitted guiltily, burying her face in his chest, and welcoming the familiar, sexual scent of him on her again. Here it was, the smell of his skin, the smell of sweat and a whiff of alcohol and tobacco and earth and cologne, the smell of man. Her man.
His magical hand slipped between her hand and the world dimmed before her eyes, as his fingers slid beyond the barrier of her folds, coaxing a gasp of pleasure out of her open lips. Drawing the tip of his tongue over her mouth, he murmured, “Ahhh…all ready and waiting…all for me,”
“All for you,” she vowed blissfully, feeling her wet, scalding flesh accept the invasion of his fingers inside, as he probed gently, but firmly, sliding easily inside.
“Hurts?” his asked huskily, as she licked the sheen of sweat off his neck. The sharp bristles on his cheek and jaw tickled her tongue and he swallowed hard, kissing her hair, his fingers gaining a torturously slow, steady rhythm inside her sex. The thumb pressed on her clit and she shifted her hips, so that it rested on the most optimal spot, and instantly a loud moan shot out from her chest. This cry of pleasure was his answer.
Both of them were still for a moment by the sight of his hand’s movement between her thighs, her buckling hips, which he held down with his hand, the contrast between the lightness of her body against the sharp angles of his. His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness, bright like diamonds, darkening with his oncoming need, his lower lip bitten down by his sharp little teeth. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, and pressed her face under his arm, her lips tangling with his hair, as she moaned against his skin. The extreme, borderline painful pleasure that his fingers created inside of her, in between the walls of her sex, against her swollen, blossoming clit caused waves of heat and tension to roll over her body again and again. She wanted him inside of her, his member, that sublime erect hardness, but then selfishly, she wanted his fingers to continue this wicked, perfect rhythm that he had created so skillfully.
The strap of her nightgown slipped down her shoulder, exposing her large, white breast, her nipple bursting like a cherry.
“Caleb…” she cried, breathlessly. He dipped his head and dragged his tongue from her neck to her breast, closing his mouth on the aching tip, sucking in tune with his moving fingers. He rubbed steadily, knowingly, aware of her responses, and in clear control of himself, despite a burning erection that rested next to her hip. But she knew that this was her time, her gift, perhaps for his pretend coldness towards her in the evening. So the delicious, sinful rubbing progressed inside her slurping, noisily wet slit, while with brisk impatience, he pulled her nightgown down to her stomach, baring both of her breasts, which he sucked one after the other.
Where thrills are cheap and love is divine was all she could think of for some reason, marvelling at the simple brilliance of the words amidst the agony of her oncoming orgasm, which swallowed her with such immense strength, that Caleb had to press his hand to her mouth, stifling her screams. He kept his fingers inside her deep passage even as she writhed in joy and pleasure against him, feeling her womb contract lustily on his fingers, her throbbing clit swollen under his thumb. Playfully, he bit her nose and lips and the tip of her tongue when her panting subsided a little, muttering,
“I can never fuck you in the house, can I? You’ll rouse the whole neighborhood with your wailing!”
She smacked the back of his head and he laughed.
“There isn’t a neighborhood!” she reminded him.
“Exactly! But your screaming will reach the nearest town!”
His cheek rubbed against the tender skin of her chest and he popped her nipple in his mouth, sucking thoroughly for a few blissful moments, before asking cheekily, “Came all right?”
She giggled and nodded,
“Not bad. Not bad at all!”
Sunrise was beginning to lighten the world around them and when Caleb at last pulled his hand out of her, he proposed,
“Now that we’ve been united…in more ways than I can think of…why not go for a swim. And you don’t need your bathing suit!”
The thought of cool water rolling over her overheated body made the prospect very appealing.
“I still don’t have a bathing suit. So I guess I’ll just have to think of something when we are at the creek.”
“I’ll think of something,” he promised with a delicious crooked grin.
The pale sky was still studded with sparkling stars, yet the sun was making itself know, kissing the tops of the trees and rousing birds in songs. Dewy grass was cool beneath their bare feet and the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass wafted through the air.
Caleb had the presence of mind to put on jeans, but he dragged her out of the house—actually, carried her out in his arms—in her nightgown. She didn’t argue.
Half way to the creek, he stopped her and pulled her nightgown off, throwing it on the ground where they stood. With the same impatience, he threw down his jeans and then taking her in his arms, he gently kissed her along the collarbone, saying, “I think that from here on, we walk naked.” She kissed his lips and nodded. There was no need to argue at all. Threading his fingers through hers, they walked slowly down the grassy path, naked and relaxed.
“Come on,” he picked her off the ground, once they stood on the narrow strip of sand that breasted the creek, and walked into the cool water. She shivered against him and his arms tightened around her. The cold water nipped at her toes, and as if sensing that, Caleb cupped her bottom and brought her legs higher up to his thighs. She wrapped her legs around him and pressed her lips to his. When her warm, wet sex touched the water, he released her carefully, and she floated in the chilly water, her breasts bobbing appetizingly above the surface.
He stood, watching her float, bathed in the cool light of the rising sun, and she waved him in, but he shook his head and said,
“Not yet. Let me watch you for a bit…”
She floated around him, and he stood still, touching her softly, her belly and her legs, until he put his hands on her breasts and squeezed them tightly.
“Like little birds.”
She smiled, watching his fingers tease her nipples lazily. His blue eyes were hungry.
“G-d, you really are gorgeous!” he muttered, “what a find for me! I gotta pat myself on the back for this one. Good eye, Caleb Followill!”
“Caleb Followill, can you please get in the water and warm me up with you sturdy masculine body?” she begged.
He dove head first, disappearing somehwere beneath her, until he jumped up, shivering.
“My dick will be tiny!”
“Too bad for you.”
“No, dearest, too bad for you!”
“True.”
She rose and wrapped her arms around his torso, sliding her breasts agiainst his chest and dipping her head to his chest. Her tongue made complex designs upon his skin, until she stopped at his nipple and kissed it softly.
“Now…what am I going to do about that?” she murmured, licking along his ribcage and moving to his firm stomach, where her tongue followed the path of his hair.
“You have something in mind?” he asked, his voice a bit stifled, his heavy hands gripping her shoulders.
“I do,” she looked up at him, licking her lips, her hands resting on his hip bones.
“You don’t need to,” he muttered, “you are satisfying enough without…”
“Shhhh…not everything is about you,” she reminded him and put her finger to his lips. “Some things I want to do and experience for my sake…not just yours. Although you’ll certainly benefit.”
He swiftly picked her up and walked to the shore, carrying her.
“You know, Caleb Followill…You stole my heart. And I don’t want it back.”
