When I'm Gone
Page 50

“On my . . . down there,” she replied.
Oh, yeah. I closed my eyes and let her voice and the image of what she was doing take over my thoughts. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yeaaah,” she said, with a hitch in her breathing.
“Play with it easy for me. Make my sweet pussy feel good. I’m not there to take care of it. I need you to, and let me hear you. I wanna hear those sounds you make.”
“Ahhh!” she cried out. She loved my words.
“Rub that hard, swollen clit. I want to kiss it. So bad . . . Run my tongue along the tender spots and then suck that hot button into my mouth until you pull my hair and scream my name.”
“Ohhhh, God,” she moaned.
“That’s it. Think about my head between those legs. All open for me. I can lick and lap up all that sweetness. Just me. Right there with you. Just us, baby. Your hands fisted in my hair and my hands . . . my hands on your creamy smooth thighs, holding you open. Breathing you in.”
“Mase! Oh . . . aaaaah!”
Her release gave me my own. I listened as she rode it out and wished to God I was there to see it.
Reese
Over the next week, I didn’t just read to Mase at night. We ended our evenings doing other things . . .
Smiling at my secret, I spent extra time brushing my hair. I had cleaned Harlow’s house twice and met with Blaire Finlay. She was going to need someone three days a week. I had to talk to Harlow about working in her two days and Blaire’s three days to meet everyone’s needs. Blaire’s current house-cleaner hadn’t retired yet, so there was time to figure it out. She had two more weeks.
Jimmy had found out earlier in the week that today was my birthday. He’d decided he was taking me out. I hadn’t done anything more than celebrate all alone most of my life. I remembered having a cake once when I was seven. My mother had made one and invited the neighborhood children over. I’d thought she had done it for me, and for a little while, I had felt so special.
Then, later that day, I had found her in the bathroom on her knees in front of one of the dads at the party. He had been saying things I didn’t want to remember while she gripped his thighs and gave him a blow job. That man lived across the street with his wife and two kids.
I had realized that not only was something wrong with what my mother was doing, but she had thrown this party to get close to that man. Not to me. It was my first and last birthday cake.
Tonight I would make a new memory. Jimmy wanted us to go dancing and eat cake. So we were going to do just that. I would celebrate turning twenty-three with someone who cared about me.
Stepping back and looking into the mirror, I felt like I was pretty. The dress I had on was a soft orange and reminded me of a sunset. It was strapless and belted at my waist with a brown woven belt that fell to mid-thigh. I had slipped on the cowboy boots I’d bought to please Mase. He hadn’t seen them yet, but I used some of my savings to buy them. They were on sale for half-price, so I had only spent a little too much on them instead of a lot.
The knock on the door was followed by an “Open up, birthday girl!”
I smiled and went to let Jimmy inside.
He let out a low whistle and twirled his finger in the air for me to spin around. “I’m gonna have to act straight tonight to keep the men off you. Damn, woman, you clean up fine.”
Laughing, I grabbed the small clutch I’d bought last year at a thrift store but never had a chance to use. It was metallic gold but simple, with a wristlet strap. “Let’s go dance,” I told him, as he took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
“I got moves, girl. You just wait.”
I had no doubt he did.
We headed into town instead of out of it, but I knew there was nowhere to dance in Rosemary Beach. Frowning, I glanced over at Jimmy, who was singing “Born in the U.S.A.” and tapping his steering wheel like it was drums.
“Where are we dancing?” I asked.
“Ah, some place called FloraBama,” he replied, flashing me a smile that was too big. Something was off.
“But we aren’t headed out of town,” I pointed out.
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Gotta drop something off first at the club.”
Well, that made sense. I sat back and watched the small town pass by as we turned into the back entrance of the club where the workers parked. Jimmy drove down toward a shell road that seemed to lead out to the water.
Was he dropping something off at the beach?
“Here we are,” he said, smiling at me as he swung open the door. We had driven down as far as we could go.
“If you’ll just walk down this wooden walkway toward that light up ahead,” Jimmy said, pointing me toward what looked like the top of a small tent from here. There were palm trees in the way.
“Do you need me to drop it off?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was asking me.
“Yep. Only you can drop off you. Happy birthday, Reese. You look amazing. Now, go follow that path,” he said with a wink, then climbed back into his car and drove off. I stood there looking at the path and back to where Jimmy had left.
It was then that it starting sinking in. Jimmy had dropped me off. Me. I turned and headed down the wooden path. Halfway down, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I started to run. I knew who was going to be at the end of this path. I knew who he’d dropped me off to. And I wanted to get there.
Once I broke free out of the palm-lined walkway, I saw him.
He was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of khaki shorts. He stood inside a white tent illuminated by candlelight, with a three-tiered birthday cake beside him. It was a pretty pale pink and sparkled under the dim lights. Silver balloons filled the tent.