Lebpreciation

Milk

Milk

Songs: Milk, by Kings of Leon
Sex On Fire, by Kings of Leon

Chapter 7

Beneath their bare feet, the freshly cut grass was smooth and soft, but she hardly felt it, because as soon as they were out of sight from the main house, Caleb wrapped his arms tightly around her body and lifted her up, kissing her with wildly unbridled passion.
“You’ll be the end of the band!” he muttered between the soft, wet kisses that he placed on her lips and her face.
“How do you figure that?” her brow knitted.
“What songs will I write with you in my life? Stuff about bunnies, prancing unicorns, fluffy clouds and pretty flowers?”
She laughed softly, kissing his neck, rubbing her nose against the stubble.
“I am sure that you will find enough pessimism in you to continue writing your depressing, self-depreciating songs.”
“I write good songs!” he said defensively. “But I don’t know if I can continue…if I am in love.”
She pulled her face away from his and looked straight into his luminously blue eyes. He held her gaze and then asked,
“What? So surprised?”
“Big words, Caleb,” she murmured.
“You’ve said them. Why can’t I?” he asked, pressing her closer to him. “I can’t help it. I don’t want to, either.”
“Have you ever been? Before?” she asked, her thumb gently brushing back and forth over his lips.
He still held her up, but now he walked, carrying her against him, until he reached a large old barrel and sat her upon it.
“Why the hell do you have a barrel?” she laughed, looking down. He stood between her legs, lightly flipping her skirt up, so he could see her thighs. His rough, wide palms covered the smooth flesh and he rubbed her legs from the knees all the way up to her underwear.
“Nathan was fixin’ to make moonshine one day…he was high or something. I don’t know. He demanded that we get a barrel,”
She chuckled.
“How far did he get?”
“I think he figured quickly enough that buying is easier and cheaper, than running moonshine still.”
“Wisely.”
He pulled her closer to him, wrapping her legs around his back, and then took her hands and brought them one by one to his lips, kissing her fingers, knuckles, inside and outside of the palms. She pressed her head to his, and let him kiss her hands in silence, loving him more than ever at this moment. It seemed a stolen moment, a sunny cloudless morning, scented with the smell of flowers, grass, water, hay and dust. And here she was, with the man she loved, as strange and as complicated as a man he was, and oddly, he loved her too and both of them fed off each other’s happiness.
“Once…” he whispered.
“Once what?” she asked, kissing him softly on the mouth.
“I think I loved a girl once. I only ever had two girlfriends.”
“Two?” she exclaimed, and pulled away a bit, surprised.
He nodded and cupped her face, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs.
“I can’t even get enough of looking at you…the way your eyes are… You are beautiful.”
Her heart fell in her chest and felt soft and heavy, like over-ripe fruit.
“I’ve made you blush,” he smiled, his smile mischievous, the way she liked it most. In the heat, he had swept his hair back, revealing his dreaded receding hairline, which she in fact found quite pleasing to the eye, because it made his forehead open and large.
“Nobody said anything like this before to me,” she admitted.
“Good! I should be the first! And I think nobody else’s done many other things to you,” and his hand brushed teasingly against her thighs, very close to her blue underwear. “I like being the first.”
“I know. I am happy that it was you, and no one else. I wouldn’t have liked it better with anyone else in the world.”
“Wanna hear about my women?” he chuckled.
“It’s a risky proposition…but, yes…”
“One girlfriend was when I was ten years old and the other, when I was fourteen years old.”
“They don’t count!” she exclaimed.
“Why not?” he laughed, “we went steady.”
“Please,” she waved him away. “I thought that it was something serious.”
“We couldn’t do much with girls…mostly making out and stuff. Touch girls’ titties, kissing. What opportunities did we have for dating, moving around all the time? And being the preacher’s sons.”
She reached for his mouth and kissed him slowly and deeply. His heavy arms pressed her closer to his chest and he kissed her back, smoothly and confidently. When at last he pulled away, a humorous smirk stretched across his face and he said,
“But I am a good fucking kisser, am I not?”
She chuckled and nodded, stroking his head.
“You are an amazing kisser! All those church girls you’ve been practicing on helped you become such a fine kisser?”
“With kissing—yes!”
“Anything else?”
He wrinkled his nose and said, shaking his head,
“The groupies helped with other stuff…”
She rolled her eyes and slipped from his embrace, and off the barrel.
He caught her shoulder, and asked seriously,
“Are you upset?”
“Nah…Not really. It’s just a part of you that I cannot relate to what so ever. I don’t know you like that. This rock star, with groupies and all. You are a different person to me.”
He pulled her closer to him and whispered,
“I am a different person with you. I aint gonna talk about it, if it upsets you.”
Her face softened and she cupped his cheek in her hand.
“It’s all right. I don’t mind. I am not jealous. I know I am not the only one,”
“No,” he interrupted, “no. Now, you are the only one. Here, right now, there is no one else, and there won’t be either. That’s a promise.”
She looked at him long and hard, and thought whether she’s allow any other man this freedom? But she was hopelessly enthralled, and with Caleb, rules seemed to go out the window with frightening speed. No, no other man would ever be able to say to her that he had no one else, here.
“There you two!” Nathan stood still, watching them, Caleb’s possessive arm around her, the urgency of his expression.
“Done with the firewood?” asked Nate, his steely blue eyes unwavering.
“Just about,” muttered Caleb, biting his lower lip, unhappy about the interruption.
“We are going to eat—care to join us?”
She nodded quickly and gingerly threw the heavy warm hand off her shoulder.
“Pancakes?” she asked cheerfully, but aware that there were unsaid words and feelings between the brothers.
“Sure babe,” coolly said Caleb, and slapped her bottom playfully.
She skipped past Nathan, who remained unmoving and unsmiling.
Just as she made it behind the corner of the house, she stopped. Her heart was beating loudly, and it seemed that every vein was pulsating in her body. What worried her was Nathan. She couldn’t quite figure him out, and if was about to rip Caleb a new one, about something, she wondered what Caleb would do and think. If Nathan disliked her, Caleb would probably automatically consider his words…perhaps would rebel against the older brother, but at the end…
She pressed her cheek against the siding of the house and strained her ear, trying to listen. This wasn’t her usual behavior, but she didn’t care.
Something heated and terse was being said. She couldn’t understand what it was. Both men were snarling and arguing, but with Nathan doing most of the talking.
Just in time, she heard steps, and ran into the house in time to avoid discovery.
Caleb busted through the door, face dark, eyes stormy. He paused in the kitchen, his gaze jumping from Jared, to her, to Nacho. She felt how the atmosphere in the room changed, almost immediately. From the cheery, silly camaraderie that just happened between Nacho, Jared and her, Caleb brought in an instant, stupefying chill with just one glance.
He strode to her, and for an instant, she thought that he was going to hit her. Nacho took a preemptive step towards them, ready to spring in between Caleb and her, clearly thinking the same thing as she. But Caleb simply squeezed her shoulder, gently, and said,
“Breakfast out on the town?” as a cold smile touched his lips.
She nodded. In measured tone, Nacho inquired,
“All is good, bro?”
“Fuckin’ awesome!” answered Caleb venomously, with a flat chuckle.
Jared preferred not to interfere in any way.
With a firmer squeeze, Caleb willed her to follow him.
“I need to change…,” she said.
“Nah, you look great.”
He picked up the first t-shirt he spotted on the sofa, belted his jeans and thrust his feet into a pair of sneakers.
The cold leather of Lexus enveloped them in its luxury and the sounds of the world were shut out by the steel around them. He pulled out of the garage, quicker than was prudent and then drove away from the house, all the while silent, biting his lip, chewing on his finger.
She never really feared him; in fact, her greatest fear was him losing interest in her, yet right now, she wasn’t sure what was the source of his anger, so she kept quiet, looking out the window. They passed by a grassy, sun burnt meadow, bouncing along a gravel road, past a few buildings, a barn, and the cows that were grazing peacefully behind a fence.
He stopped suddenly, and the car lurched forward. Then he swerved off the road and drove over the grass, stopping beneath a wide canopy of an oak tree.
“Caleb, what’s wrong, my love?” she murmured, not knowing what to think. “What did I do?”
He reached for her and pulled her roughly towards him, pressing his lips to hers, bruising her with a painful, overpowering kiss of such intensity that the world darkened before her eyes for a few moments.
Unable to help herself, her dug her fingers into the back of his neck, pushing at him, trying to bring him even closer, hurting herself against his mouth, feeling her battered body crushed within the brutal, steely grip of his arms. His fingers tangled in her hair, wrapping her ponytail around his fist, yanking harshly, but she barely noticed the pain, as she drank on his mouth, sucking on his lips, teeth and tongue.
“What’s wrong?” she muttered at last, holding his face in her hand, not letting him move away and escape the question.
“Nothing with you,” he answered reluctantly, “but probably everything with me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His thumbs brushed all over her face, as if he was trying to memorize the features of her face with his hands.
“Like I said before,” he added, “you make me happy. Maybe too happy. Aint no way I can live up to you…to how you make me feel. And Nathan kindly pointed that out to me.”
“What are you talking about? Why are you listening to Nathan?”
“Cus’ he sees and he knows me much better than you know me.”
“And?”
“And he knows that eventually, I will probably fuck up your life,”
“So this was directed at you?” she exclaimed, chuckling.
“Aint nothing funny about this. He is right! I will fuck up your life. Nathan likes you, thinks you do me good, but at the same time, he reckons you deserve better, which is of course correct.”
“Can Nathan go and screw himself?” she proposed mildly.
His lips twitched in a smile.
“And he cares so much about you…Ungrateful woman!”
She laughed, licking her lips and then kissing his hand. He still her hair tightly, but she didn’t want to untangle from him and said,
“I’d rather he cared less for me and didn’t cause you to frighten the entire household with your mood swings! I am going to have to have a talk with him! None of this is his business, you know.”
“A little bit, it is.”
“No!” she cut him off, “none. It’s you and me.”
He paused, didn’t argue.
He released her hair a bit and kissed her chin, lightly biting it along the jaw.
“Now what?” she asked, rubbing her nose against his.
“Let’s go to town,” he decided. “We’ll go to my place there. I don’t want to fight with Nate.”
‘Everyone needs to cool off,” she agreed, knowing that if the two brothers will be near each other any time soon, they would come to blows.
He straightened in his seat and reversed, driving more cautiously now. They returned to the gravel road, he drove slowly, and steadily, still thinking, his brow knitted with worry.
A smile touched her lips, and she gently ran her hand down his stomach, letting her fingers bump against the ridges of his stomach muscles. Then she leaned towards him and kissed his neck softly, running her tongue behind his ear and down to his jaw.
“Can I do something?” she murmured.
“What do you want to do?” he asked hoarsely.
“Please keep your eyes on the road and try not to kill us!” she pleaded humorously, while her fingers slowly undid his belt buckle and the zipper.
“Ammm,” he began to say, and then swerved violently, once her head dipped down and she gently wrapped her tongue against his promptly engorged member.
“Whoa!” he mumbled, trying to keep his eyes on the road and hands on the wheel, while she scooted closer and licked the full length of the shaft with slow, languid movements of her soft, wet tongue.
The manly scent of him, mixed with a barely-there taste and smell of baby oil and lotion made her so hungry for him, for the feeling of his rigid pole in her mouth, the smooth head budding against the back of her throat, that she had to pace herself, her loving, tender licking, so that she could enjoy the experience of him longer. She felt her womb fill with wetness that was so abundant, that her arousal hurt her belly, and she gripped his thigh, clutching a fistful of hard flesh.
“Oh G-d,” he groaned loudly, still struggling to drive, his stomach tense and firm against her forehead, his right hand laying on her head. She worked her mouth over the sleek flesh, sliding up and down upon his member, swallowing a good measure of him in her mouth. She traced the bulging veins with the tip of her tongue, caressing him broadly with deep, loving laps, feeling his skin warming up next to her cheek, hearing his breath struggling in his chest.
The uneven road only increased the pleasure of her mouth on his shaft, making her tongue and teeth bump against his straining member, making him moan with enjoyment. Her head slid up and down, bathing him in warmth and wetness of her saliva, and he held the back of her neck gently, attempting to drive with one hand, but stopping abruptly at last. The car jerked and she bit him softly, coaxing a grunt of pleasure from his chest. “More,” she heard a husky plea, and she pushed her head lower, keeping him deep inside, against her throat, moving rapidly, so most of him remained constantly within the sublime confines of her mouth. His thick fingers covered her hand and he held it, squeezing hard, just as a hot jet of his semen filled her mouth. She didn’t pull away, savouring his utter surrender, licking and swallowing, caressing him softly with her hand and her tongue.
“I am…” his voice was raspy, rougher than it usually was. She raised her head, and he pulled her closer, while she licked her lips and smiled.
“My G-d…I’ve never had this before…,” he muttered, kissing her face.
“Which part?” she laughed.
“Never had head, while driving!”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Fuck yeah!!!” he exclaimed. “Even if I did almost hit that tree!”
“Well, you ought to be careful,” she admonished him playfully.
“Oh, easy for you to say…I’ve got to write a song about that!”
“Don’t you dare!” she slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you nuts?!”
He laughed loudly, his whole body vibrating.
“Guess maybe I don’t have to write songs about prancing ponies after all! I can write about blow jobs…”
“Not if you want to have another one! Ever again!” she warned, as he continued laughing.
“That’s not fair.”
She kissed him softly on the lips and murmured,
“By the way…you are delicious.”
A blush spread over his face, and she didn’t know whether it was from shyness or from arousal, but she felt him grow hard again next to her hand. He pulled her closer, pushed the driver’s seat back as far as it would go, and she scrimped on top of him, wedging her body between the steering wheel and his body.
He lifted her skirt up, tucking the hem into the waistband, and then mouthing “sorry”, he ripped her underwear at the seam and tore it off her. With impatient fingers, he worked the buttons of her shirt, and she paced him gingerly, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers.
“Suppose you want to have some clothes left on you by the time we hit town,” he chuckled, arranging her atop of his thighs, eagerly cupping the wet, sleek flesh of her sex, and gushing gruffly, when he felt how wet she was.
He popped the front closure of her bra and then slowly, leisurely took her breast in his mouth, enjoying every inch of her soft flesh, completely different from the heated feverish impatience of a few seconds ago.
“Caleb,” she gasped, just as he urged the thick, round tip of his member past the soft folds of her sex and slid gradually inside, forcing a deep, loud torturous moan from her.
Thick and scorching hot, the shaft slipped up into her slowly, and she threw her head back, almost hitting the steering wheel, grasping his neck in her hands, and holding her head to her breast, praying that he did not cease his delicious, steady sucking of her aching nipples.
Caleb cupped her bottom in his large hands, and she loved how she fit in them, and how her belly moulded so naturally into his, and how he moved her body with the power of his own, and how hers slipped against him and mashed in some inexplicable, perfect unison. The air conditioning was blowing into her back, pleasantly cooling off her overheated skin, as it was all slippery with sweat.
Easily, but heavily she thrust her hips upon him, as her breasts bounced temptingly before his eyes. He watched her with pleasure, and though she didn’t know what she looked like right now, in the grip of this mad, wanton pleasure, she imagined that she didn’t make a bad sight, with her long lush hair thrown about her shoulders, her eyes sparking, her cheeks red, her lips parted. He brushed her lips with his fingers, before thrusting his thumb into her mouth and letting her suck.
“Fuck me, my girl,” he urged her lustily.
The world outside the car was golden, gleaming with the bright light of day, and she wondered if it was as hot as this oncoming fiery wave of scorching, overpowering pleasure that began to build inside of her.
“Oh Jesus,” she cried, as he pulled her close to his chest, enjoying the feeling of her full breasts gliding against his chest, feeling the tender thin skin roll over his nipples. She bit him softly, her teeth leaving small pleasure marks on his neck and shoulders and along the collarbone.
“Come for me,” he muttered, fondling her breasts with his expert hands, watching her as she did succumb to the blissful satisfaction of his hard flesh and his able fingers. Coaxing every bit of panting and writhing out of her with his lips and his explicit words, he watch her cry out and thrash on his lap, enjoying every bit of her coming, pushing into the blossoming, dripping, fiery womb with precise strokes of his member.
…Enveloped in his embrace, she kissed his chest, her lips tangling with the hair on his chest and the metal of the crucifix.
“So I reckon we ought to get some kind of protection or something…” he proposed, kissing her hair. “Cus’ I am thinking that I am one sperm away from knocking you up.”
“Caleb Jr.?” she laughed.
“Any time, any day—with you. But I’d rather enjoy this for a little while longer.”
“And what if that sperm already did the deed?”
“Guess we’ll deal with it,” he said firmly, and she was mildly surprised by the steely determination in his voice. It comforted her. Whatever would happen, she knew that she’d be able to rely on him.

They arrived to the neighbourhood of Green Hills, an affluent part of Nashville mid-day. Breakfast and lunch consisted of Wendy’s drive-thru—they were not modest in their consumption of bacon double cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate frosties.
“Here it is,” Caleb pulled into the driveway of a mid-size, two story house.
“Yours?”
“Yep. I think we ought to spend some time here, alone. Without well-meaning brothers. Moms. Uncles. Cousins. And any family in general.”
“They all do care, for both of us,” she reminded him.
“Good. But I need to be with my woman. And make decisions on my own. Without them interfering every minute of the day.”
They entered a cool, dark foyer. Shades were drawn everywhere. The house smelled of tobacco, and dust swirled in the shadows.
“What is this, the Bates Motel?” she muttered, squinting in the murky darkness.
Caleb started to laugh and then went to pull the shades up, letting sunshine in.
She was pleased once she looked around—nice leather furniture, shiny wood floors, some mementos on the walls, plants, a fireplace.
“My cousin looks after the place when I am on the road,” he explained. “I don’t spend much time here, because I am always on the farm, but it’s a nice house. My other cousin cleans it, washes the floors, waters the plants. It aint much, but it’s home.”
“Oh, I think it will do!” she said.
He stopped her in the hallway, next to the kitchen and put his hands on her shoulders. His eyes seemed very blue to her right now, and the handsome, soft features of the face relaxed. The fight with Nathan was either forgotten or pushed aside, for now.
“I’d like you to live here,” he said. “Be the woman of the house.”
She swallowed hard as he watched her, expectantly.
“Is this what you want?” she asked at last.
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I’d like that. You?”
“I’d like that as well.”
“Good. We are going to start recording the new record soon…”
“Are you leaving?” she interrupted.
Her fear pleased him. He lowered his head and kissed her gently.
“Are you?” she pulled away.
He shook his head.
“No. We are recording here, in Nashville. That’s why it would be best if you stay here, with me. We’ll play house. I’ll come home after work, and you’ll have dinner ready for me!” he laughed.
“Oh, you are very emancipated!” she huffed. “These aren’t the ‘50s!”
“Kidding, kidding! Ahhh, I like to watch the claws come out!”
“They will come out, if you are going to be an ass…”

It was late afternoon. The kitchen was bathed in light, which reflected off granite and the high end appliances. She was unloading bags from Peapod, since there was no food in the house what so ever. Townes Van Zandt’s “She Came and Touched Me” played softly in the background.
She heard Caleb’s voice, calling her. Putting the milk and the eggs in the fridge, she made her way upstairs. The bedroom was very satisfactory—large and light, with a big bed, and every time she looked at it, her belly lurched a bit with desire. She went to the master bathroom, where Caleb was lounging in the large bathtub, surrounded by beer bottles.
“What is it that you want, my alcoholic?”
He laughed loudly and nodded his agreement.
“Come in here with me,” he invited.
“No, I am busy downstairs.”
“Why can’t you be busy with me?”
“A little later on…”
Swiftly he rose from the tub and stepping over the edge, in one stride he reached her and wrapped his wet arms around her body.
“Oh, no!” she cried, as her borrowed t-shirt was immediately soaked through.
“You’ll live,” he whispered, and planted a kiss on her nose.
He brought her back with him to the tub, but didn’t pull her into the water and let her sit on the edge, holding her legs over his stomach.
Then he kissed her knees and wrapped his arms tighter around her legs.
“I am glad you are here,” he whispered. “I feel in place.”
“Well, where else would I be?” she asked gently, running her fingers through his wet hair. “I only ever want to be with you.”
“Me too…And it’s the truth. I am obsessing about you. It’s a new feeling for me, but I think I like it.”
“You think you like it?”
“I am not threatened by it,” he corrected himself. “A year, even a few months ago, I would’ve been. Now, I can deal with love.”
“I am glad that I came into your life when you can deal with love,” she said humorously.
However, she also sensed that he was serious.
“I guess I had three girlfriends…The two that I mentioned in the morning, but there was another one as well.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, two years ago, when I was writing “Aha”…I was fucking messed up on drugs and a bunch of other shit, and I couldn’t deal with the responsibilities of a relationship. Didn’t want to deal either.
“But I met this sweet girl…Real young, very nice.”
“What happened? Where was it?”
“In LA. We had a relationship…It wasn’t good. I mean it was good for me, but not for her. I didn’t treat her very well. I tried to make it work, but I couldn’t.
“And now, I don’t want to make the same mistake with you. Because what I am feeling right now—it’s way stronger and deeper than what I felt for her.”
“How did it end?”
“I ended it. Broke up with her. And to this day, I am hoping that I didn’t break her heart.”
He kissed her hands, which rested on her knees.
“I never want to do this with you. Never want to break up with you, or even think about it. And I don’t really want to write songs about it either.”
“What song did you write?”
“Milk”.