“Over beer, dogs and eventually s’mores,” he replied.
Her head tilted, making the shadow of her hair sway over her shoulder. He felt his groin tighten just at that and tighten more when she grinned at him and took a huge bite of her dog.
Through a not-anything-like-a-petty-rich-dainty-princess, her mouth being full, she said, “Good idea.”
“Slide the dogs over to me, Jus,” he ordered.
She slid the opened package across the flagstone.
He ate his last bite and loaded up another dog.
She finished hers and did the same.
They drank beer. They ate the food Deke bought. They made s’mores. Eventually, she cleared everything up, taking it undoubtedly through that dark to her utility room, which was now her makeshift kitchen, and came out with another two brews for them, where they sat, both their feet up on the ledge, chairs turned to the night.
And through this they talked about Krystal and Bubba and their baby.
Deke told her the whole story about Dalton, Carnal’s now incarcerated-for-life serial killer, including the fact that Jim-Billy helped saved Lauren’s life when she was taken. News at getting, Jus informed him she wasn’t surprised about, making it clear she’d gotten to know Jim-Billy and the good soul he carried.
He also told her he had a bike and Max’s “travelin’ man” comment she’d mentioned meant he didn’t stay put for very long and would probably be on his bike again by April, heading out and only coming back for short stays before he took off again.
Jus told him she played guitar. She further shared she was born in Kentucky, “…but my dad was kind of a travelin’ man too, and he liked his family with him, so he almost always took us along.” News Deke did not like to hear because she said it not like she missed having roots while growing up but like she liked being a tumbleweed as long as she was tumbling close to someone she loved.
She also told him her friend’s name was Lacey, they were tight and she was looking forward to the visit because they used to spend a lot of time together, but didn’t get much of that anymore.
Deke had no problem giving to her what he gave.
Jus seemed hesitant, careful and sometimes even uncomfortable sharing all of hers, doing it all like she was protecting herself.
He got why.
She wanted to give more. It was just that Deke was making it clear that wasn’t where this was going.
It cut, way deeper than he expected, and he wondered at the wisdom of his play.
But when the time had come for him to go home, she walked him to the door and purposefully fell into him sideways, her arm hitting his. A show of friendly gratitude. An indication she dug the closeness. A communication she was still good with taking what he could give.
“’Night, Jus,” he said at the door.
“’Night, Deke. And thanks again. Beer, dogs and s’mores work wonders. Good company, though…”
She let that hang and Deke did what he was making her do.
He took what she could give and left it at that.
* * * * *
Justice
On my belly in the dark in my warm, snug bedroom, on my bed, one vibrator in me, my hips hitched up slightly, my other vibrator in my hand aimed hard and twirling at my clit, I was going for the gusto. My mind filled with Deke’s voice, his face, his hands, and all the rest of him. My imagination soaring with all he could do with them, doing all of it to me.
I came hard, gasping against the sheet, grinding into the toy until I could take no more.
I turned it off and shifted it away, letting the one inside me keep going until I was fully sated. I reached down, twisted it to off and rolled to my back.
I stared at the dark ceiling.
Then I slid it out in the close confines since I was still wearing my panties. I got off the bed, went to the bathroom, cleaned the toys and took them back to my nightstand.
I got in bed, pulled the covers over me—and filled with beer, dogs, chips, macaroni salad, s’mores, good company, satisfied with the orgasm Deke gave me (but didn’t)—alone in the dark Colorado night, I fell asleep.
Chapter Seven
Pleasure and Pain
Justice
“You did not,” I declared, staring at Bubba who’d just taken a huge bite of the turkey sandwich I’d bought him (and I’d bought another for me and another for Deke).
“Hurts to say it, I did,” Bubba confirmed, not looking like it hurt to say it at all.
I turned my attention to Deke.
“Can’t confirm. I wasn’t there,” he stated. “And I’m glad.”
He would be.
I looked back to Bubba.
“I’m uncertain, I have not had the opportunity to ask him, perhaps I’m wrong and he rolls whatever way anyone wants to roll with it. But it also could be the master rock storyteller, Bob Seger, is not fond of men all over stripping down to their tighty-whiteys and dancing around to ‘Old Time Rock and Roll.’”