“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asked smiling.
“No.” She shook her head, trying to hold back the laughter that was about to pour out at the vision of Deacon getting hard when he heard those obnoxious seagulls.
“Really? Because your face does. If you want to laugh,I can give you something to laugh about.” He started tickling her and she lost it. She was cracking up.
Some people hated being tickled, but she was never one of those people. She actually sort of liked it, not that she’d ever tell anyone that. For some reason it had always embarrassed her that she did, it made her feel shame.
But when he tickled her, she didn’t feel shame. In fact, she started tickling him back. They were tickle wrestling until she couldn’t breath and finally had to say, “Stop, stop, stop,” which he did stop, but at that point they’d ended up on the floor on the blanket, the blanket he’d bought, in front of the fireplace, he was above her, between her legs, very hard and she was very wet.
They were both panting as he pushed inside of her again and there was nothing she could do, because he was right, no matter how much she wanted to fight it, deny it, or ignore it…this was definitely a case of…mine.
28
“Oh boy.”
Jenna heard her daughter’s voice and looked up from her computer screen. Blake was standing in the doorway of her bedroom with the uniquely judgmental look of a fifteen-year-old.
“What?” Jenna asked.
Her daughter sighed, walked in, and plopped down at the bottom of her bed dramatically. “It’s worse than I thought.”
Jenna wasn’t in the mood to decode her teen talk. “What is?”
“You.”
“Me?” Jenna replied defensively, touching her chest with her hand.
Blake lunged forward and spun the computer screen towards her.
“Hey!” Jenna snatched it back.
“I knew it!” Blake announced accusatorially. “Dawson’s Creek. Again.”
“It’s my comfort show. You watch Gossip Girl and The Office constantly.”
“No.” Blake sat up straighter and waved her hand up and down over Jenna’s bed like she was a spokesmodel. “That is not whatthisis. This is different.”
“Blake, I’mallowedto relax. It’s not against the law.”
Blake stared at her and didn’t say anything. “What is going on? What happened in Oregon? Do I have to kill Deacon?”
“What?!” Jenna sat up straighter in her bed and shut her laptop. “No, why would you…what? No! Why would you say that?”
“You’ve been back for ten days, and I’ve been trying to give you space and mind my own business. I know you’re an adult, but I promised you after Bree, that backstabbing bitch, and James, the cheating piece of shi?—”
“Blake.” Jenna didn’t love that her daughter cursed, it wasn’t the end of the world, but she didn’t want to celebrate it.
“What? Theyare,” Blake defended her use of profanity.
Jenna shrugged. That was not the parental hill she planned on dying on, at least not when she had zero energy and just wanted to curl up in the covers and put her show back on.
“Anyway, I promised you that I would talk to you if I was stressed or worried about anything, and I am.”
“You don’t have to stress about Deacon, nothing is going on between us.”
“Whynot?”
“What do you mean why not?”
