When We Were Young

CHAPTER FOUR: SIX YEARS AGO

The next morning, I woke up -- already smiling -- to the sound of Beck working on Mr. Joyner's house. He was most of the way up a tall ladder cleaning muck out of the gutters. After fixing my bed head a bit in the mirror, I pulled my curtains all the way back and opened the window. He must've been listening for the sound because he immediately turned my way, practically falling off the ladder with the excitement of seeing me again. My grin spread wider, almost hurting my cheeks, and I waved as I leaned out the window, almost wanting to jump out of it and run into his arms.

He waved back and called, "Morning, gorgeous!" Hopping off the ladder, Beck jogged across the yard and to my driveway, where he could look right up at me. His smile was so infectious. "Good to see you again."

"You, too." I bit my lower lip as I ogled his shoulders and the sweat on his brow. "Want some help out there?"

He laughed and replied, "I'd much rather have some eye candy nearby."

"I can definitely do that." I was glad he was far enough away that my blush wouldn't be too obvious. "I need to work on my tan, anyway."

He shaded his eyes from the sun and said, "As long as you let me put your sunscreen on."

"Deal."

He nodded and went back to the gutters while I closed the window. Even though I was actually going to tan in the yard, I put on some mascara and slicked my hair back into a high ponytail that highlighted my cheekbones. I dug through my drawer of swimsuits until I found one of my smallest string bikinis. Black. Nothing but a few little triangles. Perfect for tanning and, more importantly, for distracting. Beck made me feel so sexy and confident last night that I wanted nothing more than for him to jump me as soon as he had the chance.

Until then, I could tease him to my heart's content.

I pulled on an oversized tee as a coverup, grabbed one of our million beach towels from the linen closet, and floated down the stairs to the side door. My perpetually packed outside bag sat by the door and I shouldered it.

Sienna must've heard me going past her room because her voice chased me before I could sneak out. Her head peeked around the corner of the kitchen and she asked,

"Where are you headed with your entire ass out?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to tan."

"Oh, great, I'll come with you!" At my obvious annoyance, she said, her mouth all cheeky and older-sister-y, drawing out all the words, "Unless, of course, you're not just tanning but maybe, just maybe, trying to show off to the cute boy next door who's way out of your league?"

"Out of my league?" I scoffed, "Yours, maybe, but I'll have you know that he danced with me at Rachel's bonfire last night."

"Dancing doesn't mean anything."

I blushed. "There may have been a bit more than just dancing."

Her mouth opened in surprise as she jokingly clutched pearls she wasn't wearing. "Mari, you absolute tart! Now I have to come tanning with you out there. You need a chaperone."

I shoved her shoulder. "What are you, Mom?" I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. "Can you fuck off, Sienna? Let me have one thing without you nosing around."

"I'm your big sister!"

"And I'm trying to lose my virginity this summer!"

Her voice dropped low. "Oh, I didn't realize the stakes were that high."

I rolled my eyes one more time, for emphasis, and went outside. "I better not see you out there. Go bother Jason or whoever you're after now."

As I left the house, she called, "Bitch!"

I smiled a little and shook my head. They annoyed the hell out of me, but I knew my sisters always had my back when it mattered.

Across the driveway, Beck was leaning against his uncle's house, arms above his head, basking in the sunlight. He wasn't looking my way, so I took a moment to memorize everything about him -- the shadow of his strong jaw, the way the muscles of his strong thighs were barely exposed underneath the casual shorts he wore, and the soft smile on his lips at the California morning. I had to imagine that, compared to this East Coast, it really was paradise here.

Sucking in a deep breath, I closed the gap between him and me. Even though he had to hear my flip flops announcing my arrival, Beck stayed peaceful in the sunshine until I reached out and squeezed his bicep -- mostly to say hello but also, selfishly, to feel his skin on mine for just another stolen second. When he turned to look at me, his expression went from soft to intense. Still happy, still present, still soaking it all in, but now with the added edge of desire that still lingered from our time together last night.

Beck rested his hand on my hip, clearly trying to restrain himself from doing much, much more. "It's good to see you again. Really good."

Working hard not to be sheepish, I replied, "You too."

Beck stole a look at my exposed legs and, carefully, let his fingers trail to the hem of my oversized shirt. "This doesn't look like a great outfit for tanning."

I smirked and took a few steps further into the yard. It was a flawless, windless, cloudless day. I spread my towel out on the grass, casually dropped my bag next to it, and took another deep breath. This wasn't my sort of thing -- trying to be seductive and grown-up and flirty -- but I wanted to be that kind of person. When it came to Beck, maybe I already was.

With Beck's eyes carefully watching me, I took the shirt off, the hot sun slowly finding every inch of my bare skin. It was tantalizing, a kind of foreplay in and of itself, and soon enough almost all of me was exposed to the elements -- and to his hungry gaze. "Do you think this will be better, then?"

There was a fraction of a second when the air between us became so charged with electricity it crackled and sparked. One moment in time, frozen, where I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that someone wanted me. That feeling was something I could already tell I'd crave for the rest of my life.

And then he pounced on me.

In another split second, Beck pulled me up into his arms and pushed me back on the towel and kissed me hard as his fingers gripped my hip. Hard. Wanting. I reached around his back and felt his bare skin beneath the grimey work tee he wore. He went to break our kiss but I grabbed a handful of his hair at the back of his head and pulled him closer to me, which unleashed a quiet moan from his throat. I felt his cock, barely restrained, growing hard against my thigh. He wanted me and I wanted him.

Mr. Joyner's voice came through the window clear and loud. "That doesn't look like clearing the gutter, Beckett!"

"Sorry, Uncle J!" We both knew that we were painfully exposed to our families, unable to go any further, so Beck fell back and covered his eyes with his hand.

"Christ, you're too gorgeous, I can't even look at you."

I chuckled and gave Mr. Joyner a little, embarrassed wave. Still, it was impossible to tamp down my attraction to Beck much at all. So I said, "As long as you'll still put on my sunscreen for me. Wouldn't want to get a sunburn and I can't reach my lower back on my own."

Beck let out a needy sigh and replied, "I can definitely reach your lower back."

I handed him my low-SPF tanning lotion and laid back on the towel with the kind of smile that made me feel powerful and sexy. "Make sure not to leave any spots."

"I'll be thorough, I promise."

I took out my heart-shaped sunglasses and closed my eyes. Then Beck's hands were on me, slick with sunscreen, and I could feel the intensity in them. He started at my arms, making sure to cover each of my fingers, and then moved to my face. Somehow, the way he carefully applied the sunscreen to the tops of my ears and cheeks was even sexier than the thought of him touching everywhere else. It didn't feel erotic but tender and kind. Protective, almost. His fingers went underneath the tiny straps of my top. At the back of my neck, he untied the bow that barely held up my breasts. Breathless, he murmured, "You don't want lines, right?"

"No, of course not," I said as he rubbed along the top of my chest, between my breasts, and over my stomach. He massaged over my hips and across my stomach, his thumb just slightly dipping underneath the small triangle that covered my sex.

Then, he said in a commanding voice that definitely felt like more than a casual sunscreen suggestion, "Flip over for me."

I did as he asked, settling my face in my arms to enjoy him touching me. Beck untied the bow across my back, too, and let the strings fall by my side. With my back bare, Beck's hands traveled down my sides. His fingers traced the sides of my breasts and then the small of my back and over my shoulders. Every instant was so deeply relaxing and perfect that I never wanted him to stop. By the time his hands were working up my legs, squeezing my calves and then moving upward, I was so comfortable that I was wet and turned on. His hands worked their way up my thighs. When he reached my inner leg, just millimeters from my pussy, he felt the heat radiating off of me and chuckled darkly. Since my bikini was so skimpy, he had ample opportunity to rub my ass to his heart's content, occasionally going elsewhere in case Mr. Joyner glanced our way.

As he finished putting the sunscreen on me, setting my whole body on fire at the same time, Beck asked, "You all going to the picnic on Sunday?"

The church's annual Father's Day Picnic. I groaned and flipped back over so I could look at him. "Mom always makes us. The whole 'dead dad' thing usually means people let us take leftovers home. Why?"

"Well, Uncle J wants me to go and meet some 'good people,' as he put it. But I was thinking we could blow the whole thing off, maybe. Spend some time alone. Nobody will even notice we're gone."

I grinned and basked in the sun and in his smile. "That works for me. I'd definitely rather be with you than have Mrs. Lake commenting on how tight or low-cut or short whatever I'm wearing is."

He gave me a wink and a nudge. "Don't worry; I definitely don't mind short and low-cut and tight."

*****

Sunday morning, Mom woke all of us girls up early to get ready for the church picnic, which meant we had to attend the service for once. We were usually "Christmas and Easter" people with the occasional special event thrown in like a choir show or Mom's family in town. I tugged on one of my sundresses, which was deemed too revealing by the sister police, so I pulled out something more modest -- pale blue florals, cap sleeve to cover my bra straps, lower-to-mid thigh. I still felt cute and flirty and flouncy, though, with the shirred top that hugged my curves and a skirt that hinted at my legs.

And I skipped the underwear.

We piled into the family car and made our way to church. I knew that Mr. Joyner and Beck weren't far behind us. I tried not to blush with each passing second as different fantasies played through my mind. Sneaking off into the woods that bordered the park where we'd go to the picnic, exploring each other in the back of his truck, even just exchanging hidden glances over slow cookers of casseroles and Tupperware desserts. No matter what we were doing behind my mind's eye, it sent shivers down my spine.

On Father's Day, it was always buzzing at church. Kids had to dress up and be on their best behavior while everyone waited to go to the picnic or a nice brunch or whatever Sunday afternoon activity Daddy Dearest wanted to do. On Father's Day, we took leftovers from the picnic and went home. My friends with dead dads went to gravesides and told stories, but we didn't. He wasn't exactly missed in our family -- he'd died in jail after years of cheating on my mom, sexually harassing coworkers, and laundering money -- so this wasn't a sad day for us. Just a Sunday where the fridge was packed with home-cooked potluck meals at the end of the day.

As the organ music spilled through the sanctuary, Mom spotted Mr. Joyner and we slid into the pew next to him. Beck, ever so subtle, slid around my sisters so that he could stand neck to me. He handed me an extra program he'd picked up at the door.

I rolled my eyes and turned to him. "Good morning, Beck."

"Good morning, Mariana."

I smacked him softly with the program. "Only my mother calls me that."

He chuckled as we all sat down together.

The pastor came out and the service progressed. For the next hour, it was all stolen glances and fingers touching at the back of our shared hymnal and our thighs gently grazing against each other. During the prayers, he would reach between us and touch my cheek or kiss my hand. Innocently. Sweetly. It made my heart flutter just as much as everything else he did made my stomach turn in excited knots and my lack of underwear feel even naughtier than it already was. It shocked me how fast and how easily I could fall for him.

Midway through the service, I excused myself to use the bathroom and, on the way back, ran into Beck doing the same. With nobody else around us, he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into him. He leaned down toward me, our eyes two inches apart, and said low and quiet, "I've been wanting to do this since the last time I saw you."

I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed him, reaching around his neck to rest my hands on his shoulders. One of his hands went to my lower back and he pulled me in closer. Our bodies touched and connected. I wanted nothing more than to stay right there, in that moment, forever. We kissed, our lips playing and curious and wanting, until we heard a sound nearby, someone else leaving the sanctuary, maybe, or sneaking inside the church late. I gave him one more quick kiss, much more gentle and church-appropriate. I giggled and said, "Me too."

He smiled back. "I'll see you later, then."

"Can't wait." I backed away from him and said, "But you should wait a second before you come back in, alright? You're already suspicious enough following a girl out here."

As I turned around, though, certain nobody else was behind me, I hiked the back of my skirt up a bit, just enough to show him that I wasn't wearing anything underneath. At that, Beck's footsteps quickly approached. This time, instead of just pushing me against the wall, he took my hand and led me around the nearest corner and turned me around and exposed my bare ass. I'd never felt so dirty and so thrilled at the same time.

Beck grabbed my ass hard, his fingers digging lustfully into my hips, and yanked me back against himself. I could tell how badly he wanted me, how hard it was to contain himself, how hard his cock was through the thin dress pants that separated him from my uncovered pussy that was already wet for him. One of his hands trailed from my hip to the lips of my cunt, where his first finger slid along my slick entrance. He restrained himself even as I wanted to melt into his touch. Instead of taking me right then and there, he let my skirt fall back around my ass and lifted his finger to his lips. Beck licked my taste off his finger and then kissed me. On our lips, that tart wetness spread between us and I could feel his lust coming up against mine.

He pulled back, just an inch, and chuckled at himself. At us. His whisper was wolfish, primal. "You're so...Fuck, you're just perfect. I can't believe it."

I laughed a little again. I'd never heard myself laugh this way before, small and feminine and cute. I felt so, so different around him. I gave him a little kiss and an eye roll and then I returned to our pew, followed by Beck a few moments later, long enough that nobody even cut me a glance. The rest of the service would've been uneventful if not for the constant charge between me and Beck. It was absolutely impossible to ignore. I felt completely naked, as though anyone would look over and see my bare cunt and my red cheeks and my very, very ungodly desire for my new next-door neighbor.

But we managed to keep our hands off each other until the picnic.

Then, all bets were off.

The moment Mom and Mr. Joyner were gabbing over Mrs. Leoni's pasta salad and my sisters were gossipping with a few of their childhood friends, Beck's fingers interlaced with mine and he cut me a pointed look. He leaned in and asked, "Ready to get out of here?"

"As soon as humanly possible."

"Good. Me too."

Holding each other's hands, we walked out of the pavilion where everyone sat socializing and off into the adjacent park. We were close enough to the shore to hear the distant ocean but far enough away that it didn't feel like the beachside summer vacation town it so often did. Beck was quieter on the walk than usual, not chatting me up and flirting but confident with a sly smile that hinted at something underneath that I couldn't see yet. When we reached what must've been our final destination, I realized why.

Where the forest just started to give way to the rocky beach nearby, there was a little clearing, just large enough for two people to lie down together. A thick blanket -- knit and old like it would fit right in by a fireplace -- covered the grass and rock. On top of that were a few pillows, a handful of different ones, definitely stolen from around Beck's uncle's house. The canopy of trees made it a secluded getaway. I couldn't hear any nearby footsteps or talking. We were suddenly in some private resort in the middle of nowhere.

My voice was hesitant and hopeful. "You did this? For me?"

"For us," he corrected. "I don't want you to feel any pressure or anything -- at all -- but I thought it'd be nice to be able to relax together. We probably shouldn't go back to my uncle's house and a girl like you is way too special for some park bathroom or forest floor. It's not much, obviously, but-"

"It's perfect," I replied.

And I knew I meant it.

I felt a kind of confidence I'd never experienced before as I said, "Kiss me."

He did.

Beck sat down on the makeshift bed and I sat down on his lap. He hadn't been expecting that -- even though I'd pulled the same move the other night -- and the smile that followed was positively radiant. My dress had lifted up around my hips as I sat and his hands immediately found their way underneath the thin summery fabric.

Our lips met again and, just like every time, it was absolute ecstasy. With each movement of Beck's, whether it was his hands massaging over my hips and ass or his lips trailing from my lips to my jaw to my neck, any tension inside of me dissolved. Before long, I didn't have a single thought in my head besides him and me and him and me.

Beck's hands went from my backside to the short sleeves of my dress. He slowly tugged them down over my shoulders, freeing my breasts, and he eyed me as though his mouth was watering to taste my every inch. I felt his cock hardening once more in his pants as he grabbed me. He flipped me onto my back. One of his hands stayed on my tits, roving between the two, working my nipples carefully, and I felt myself getting wetter by the second.

His hand went down between us. When his thumb found my swollen clit, slick with my reactions to him, he chuckled. "I can't believe you went to church like this."

I couldn't come up with anything to say so I just laughed, too, and then leaned into the crook of his neck as he touched me. It was so light and bright and good being with him. His thumb circled around my clit and spread warmth through all of me. My body responded effortlessly, grinding against his hand as I let out small gaps, trying hard to be quiet since we were technically in public, even though it didn't feel that way. As he masterfully worked my cunt with his fingers, his breaths turned ragged and fast. He really, really liked getting me off, almost as much as if I were doing the same for him in that moment. I craved that sound. His pleasure. His need. His desire -- for me.

I reached down toward his belt and started to undo his pants. All the while, Beck's mouth was on mine and he was moaning in a way men never did in porn. It was sexy and raw and authentic. His cock was out in only a second and I took it in my hand even though I couldn't get my fingers all the way around it. I knew that, any second, he might guide it inside of me and the thought lit my whole mind and body on fire. I moaned as his fingers went over my nipples once more and then cupped my tits, caressing them like he'd found a great treasure nobody had ever seen before. His cock was so close to my cunt that I struggled to breathe in the best way.