Girls Love Travis Walker (17 page)

Perkins started in with the fatherly questions. “So how did you and Travis meet?”

“We work together at the Community Center,” she said. “He tells me about the fire station sometimes, and I wanted to come visit.”

“We’re glad to have you. Travis, here, is the star of our Discoverers program,” Perkins said.

Zoey did a double take. “You didn’t tell me that, Travis!”

“It’s no big deal.” I mentally thanked Perkins for giving me public props.

“Would you like a tour of the station?” Perkins asked her.

“I’d love one! Thank you!” Zoey jumped up off the sofa, beaming.

“Who wants to come along?” Perkins asked. In a second, both Brandon and I were up. The four of us took off, Perkins moving ahead with Zoey, while Brandon fell back. “You know anyone in the admin office at school? I’m going next week to arrange a visit from the fire department.”

“No, sorry.” For a minute I couldn’t breathe. My mind played out the ugly scenario: the firefighters arriving at school only to hear the principal say, “Travis Walker? He hasn’t been enrolled here for almost two months.”

Perkins led us into the Truck Bay, where he handed Zoey a firefighter’s helmet and let her climb up into the cab of one of the trucks. She sat happily behind the steering wheel with the too-large helmet down around her ears. I snapped a shot of her with my cell phone, trying to act normal as my brain took in what Brandon had said. Soon, it would all be over for me.

As she climbed down, Garret’s voice called from above our heads. “Hey, Travis. You ever slide down a fire pole?”  The gleaming stainless steel pole rose past the eighteen-foot ceiling of the truck bay, disappearing through a hole up into the second floor. In the hole, Garret and Jason’s heads appeared, looking down at us.

I answered before I thought. “No, man. I want to, though.” With all the other things going on at the station, I’d never gotten the chance to do it.

“We’re comin’ down.” In a second, Garret had leaped onto the pole and streaked downward, just one leg and one arm hooked around it. He made an effortless landing and took a bow. “Thank you, thank you. Do it in style, I always say.”

“Head’s up!” Jason was coming now, managing somehow to twirl around the pole as he descended.

“Wanna give it a shot?” Garret challenged me.

“You bet!”

“Good,” Garret said. “When you fall on your face, maybe you’ll rearrange some of your features. Then you won’t be so ugly.”  He and Jason guffawed.

I took the stairs two steps at a time, thinking
crap, I’ve gotta ace this in front of Zoey.

Alone at the top, I faced the pole. Down below,
way
down, they looked up at me: Garret, challenging; the others, expectant. I’d watched Garret and Jason as they came down: you had to lock your legs around the pole loosely enough to slide but tight enough to control your speed. I could do that— at least, I hoped I could.

I took a deep breath and jumped, hooking both legs around the pole and sliding while both arms went up to flex my biceps. “Look, Ma, no hands!” I said, arriving at the bottom.

Except for Brandon, who had gone dark and gloomy, they all whooped. Perkins slapped me on the back, yelling “Way to go!” while even Garret said “Good one!”  I just had time to catch a red hot look from Zoey before the station alarm went off.

In an instant, Perkins, Jason, and Garret were all business. “Nice meeting you, Zoey!” Perkins called as he took off. “Travis, the door’ll lock behind you when you leave.”

The gleaming red truck slid into traffic, revved its siren, and left. Brandon had vanished. Not even thirty seconds had passed since the alarm sounded.

Zoey and I were alone in the firehouse.

The air seemed to quiver in the sudden silence. We smiled at each other. My heart thumped as images flashed through my mind: me kissing her, peeling off her sweater, lying on top of her and moving her legs apart with my knees.

“Travis?” Her voice curled around my name, which only heightened my buzz of excitement.

“What?”

“I want to slide down the pole too.”

“Uh…”  I was going to say
Maybe you shouldn’t do that,
but from her tone, it was pretty clear she wasn’t asking for my permission.

She smiled flirtatiously and headed for the stairs.

“Zoey!”

She turned back to look at me.

“I’ll stay here and spot you from below.”

She grinned. “Thanks.”

I looked up. In an instant, Zoey was at the top, waving at me, seeming small and far away.

“You okay?” I yelled, hoping she would chicken out. Her hand came out of the hole, giving me a circle with thumb and forefinger.

A bead of sweat rolled down my temple as I stepped back, trying to judge her trajectory if she fell off the pole. She couldn’t weigh very much, so I figured I could catch her if I could just manage to get under her.

Shit. She was coming. First her sneakers, then her jeans-covered legs, then her fantastic ass—all headed in my direction. Fast.

When she landed, I was there, pulling her to safety while a major hard on set in. I’d never realized what a turn on it would be to have a beautiful girl slide down a pole into my arms. Of course, pretty much everything Zoey did these days gave me a hard on.

 My arms were around her and my face was in her hair, and somehow in her excitement she had turned around and wrapped her legs around my waist.

“That was amazing,” she said into my ear.

“No, you’re amazing.” I was on fire, inflamed by the way she panted in my arms, as if she’d been running, and the scent of her hair.

Our lips somehow met, and I pulled away, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this, but she just grabbed a fistful of my t-shirt and hauled me towards her. That’s when I lost it completely. A second later, I had her pressed up against a fire truck, her legs still around my waist, while I sucked on her lips, mad with lust.

We stayed there for a while, her feet eventually finding the ground while my hands crept up inside her sweater and bra.

Then, off in the distance, a phone started to ring. It rang and rang until the caller finally gave up. Coming back to reality, I stepped away from her, while she cleared her throat and adjusted her clothes.

I stole a glance in her direction. Five days ago, I’d promised not to touch her, and now I’d practically molested her. Not that she hadn’t been totally into it. She avoided my eyes, but a hint of a smile touched the corners of her mouth.

The realization hit me hard. This, right here, in one place, was what I wanted. It was all I wanted. I loved the fire station, loved the work and the feeling of pride it gave me. I wanted to be a firefighter. And I loved Zoey. I wanted her, too. I would give myself to her, totally, if she’d have me.

It was so simple, and yet I didn’t have either thing, and might never. Maybe my mistakes and lies had already caught up with me. The thought scared the hell out of me.

We drove back in silence until I pulled up in front of her house.

“Thanks. That was really fun,” she said.

“Yeah, for me, too.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her face and eyes glowed in the light of the street lamps. She gave me a soft, sweet kiss on the lips and left.

Heat

The next day, Zoey invited me over for dinner. We both knew last night had changed the rules for us.

  I came up behind her as she stood in her kitchen, laced my arms around her waist, and moved my lips down her neck. As I inhaled, her vanilla scent filled my head.

She patted my hands playfully. “I’m not having sex with you. Not tonight.”

“I know.” I turned her around so she had to look at me. I kissed the palm of her hand, then kissed my way around her wrist. My tongue traced its way up to the inside of her elbow.

“I mean it,” she said, laughing as I hit a ticklish spot on her arm.

“I know.” For right now, just being with her was enough.

“You want a margarita?  A friend gave me a good bottle of tequila. I’ve been saving it.”

“Nice gift. Sure, I’ll have a drink.”

She poured them out from a pitcher, and, since she had no sofa, we sat down on the edge of her bed, sipping, while I asked her everything about herself. She was four months older than me, allergic to wool, non-church-going but believing in God, and scared of walking into dark rooms. Her favorite sport was running and her favorite food, Mexican.

“I’ll bet you were really well behaved, right? Like with your parents?” I said.

“Not always. When I was six, I protested my mother’s plan to marry my stepfather by running away from home. I got as far away as the neighbor three doors down, who fed me quesadillas and called my mom.”

I made a mock horrified face. “Wow. That’s pretty wild!”

Zoey gave my arm a soft punch. “And she married him anyway! Luckily, he turned out to be a really great guy.”

By now, we’d had a couple of drinks apiece from Zoey’s seemingly bottomless pitcher of margaritas, in which she had not spared the tequila. Needing to feel her in my arms, I pulled her down to lie on the bed with me. “Trust me?”

“Yeah.”

We traded deep soul kisses while my fingers traveled across the small of her back and up her spine. Intoxicated not just by tequila, but by the softness of her skin, I traced the ins and outs of her ears and gently bit her earlobes. Then I moved down to her shoulders and in the direction of her cleavage, but stopped a respectful distance away.

“See?” I said. “I’m behaving myself.”

“Good,” she said with mock sternness, but her lips were parted and her breath was coming faster. Her hand accidentally brushed against my belly. All the blood in my body rushed to my erection. It throbbed like a mofo, but it was worth it to have her so close to me. We lay together on the bed, her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair. “It feels like silk,” I said. “Your hair. It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

When she raised her head to look at me, I ran the tip of my finger down her nose and touched her cheek, idiotically happy, like a kid who just got the day off from school.

“I’m not gorgeous,” she said. “I’m not a heart breaker. I’ve never been with any guy except Josh, and that wasn’t very good. I’m not good at any of this, Travis.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a hot tamale.” As she shifted position, I groaned, in pain from my unrequited lust.

She got that determined look she wore sometimes, her eyes the dark gray of a thundercloud. “I’m not, Travis. I have issues.”

“You do?”

“This is really hard for me to talk about. It’s personal.”

“Well, this is pretty personal.” Lying pressed against her with a raging erection, I meant.

“It’s embarrassing.”

I gave her a kiss for encouragement. “And…?”

 She wavered.

“C’mon,  Zoey.”

“It’s just that I’m really not good at this stuff,” she repeated. “You know. Romance. Sex.”

“What do you mean, you’re not good?”

 “If you slept with me, you wouldn’t like it. I don’t know what to do in these situations. I don’t …. Enjoy it.”  Her expression darkened. “Josh said there was something wrong with me.”

Comprehension dawned. “You mean, he couldn’t get you off?”

She cringed and dropped her eyes. “You do have a way of putting things, Travis. I’m just warning you that I don’t think you’d find me that much fun, if we slept together.”

I couldn’t believe it. “Is Josh the only guy you’ve ever been with?” That guy couldn’t feed a parking meter, let alone play a woman’s body like a fine guitar.

She nodded.

Any fears that I had nothing to offer Zoey vanished in one swoop. “Hey. Look at me.” I put my finger under her chin and raised it gently. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You had the wrong guy.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “And you’re the right guy?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” My confidence was peaking. We had now entered my particular arena of expertise. “One day, when you’re ready, I’ll prove it to you.”

Her eyes warmed now, and she looked happier.

I couldn’t help flirting with her. “Heck,” I teased, “we wouldn’t even have to have sex for me to prove it to you.”

“Meaning you could do it tonight?” she teased back.

“Sure could. You should take advantage of this special offer.”  I was enjoying myself, lying in bed trading quips with the woman I loved.

“I guess I should.” And all of sudden, she wasn’t joking anymore, but rather looking at me kind of nervously, fingering her hair.

I realized she was serious. “A-a-are you sure? I don’t want to rush into something you’re not ready for.” I almost couldn’t believe words like that were coming out of my mouth. It was as if a space alien had taken over my body.

“It’s not too fast,” she said slowly, as if she were testing out the truth of it by saying it.

I lay there beside her, trying to think of the right response, while my dick telescoped its way up like an extension ladder at the fire station. Finally, I just said what was on my mind, my voice cracking a little as I spoke.

“I don’t want to lose you, Zoey.”

The tip of her tongue came out to lick her upper lip, raising my erection even further. “I’m ready.” 

She was. Her lips and cheeks were flushed, and her breathing ragged. She didn’t seem to notice that her hand had glued itself to my belly, just above the waistline of my jeans, driving me almost out of my mind.

As if I were in a trance, my hand slipped under her shirt and up her back to the clasp on her bra. I waited for her nod, then popped it open with two fingers, a move I’d perfected with Jenny Taylor in the ninth grade.

Her breathing stopped as I moved my hand around to the front. “But no sex tonight.”

“No,” I said, “we’ll just fool around.” I slowly pulled off her shirt and bra and moaned at the sight of her breasts. I kissed first one breast, then the other, then moved up her neck to her lips, where our tongues kissed over and over. Being with her this way made me drunk with lust and just plain happiness.

God, this terrific girl’s sex life was like the Sahara Desert. How could it not be, when Douchebag Josh was the only man she’d ever had?  Lucky for her, I’d come along. I knew it was my sacred duty to turn that desert into a lush, green garden.