Light of Dusk Ch. 03

The plans had changed, but his talent remained the same. The team worked him out at Curtis High Stadium. The Stamps offensive coordinator was stunned by what he saw. Skinny Jeff Kramer could throw the football farther and harder than anyone the coach had ever seen.

"I'm going to be rich," Jeff vowed, as soon as the coach had left. He stripped off his jersey and shoulder pads and opened his arms for Dawn. They had never hugged in public before, at least not anywhere so near their home. His skin was hot and slicked with sweat. The musk of his sweat was so familiar that she had almost come to enjoy it.

"Rich," As he whispered, his lips lingered near her ear, "Rich and famous." He kissed the lobe of her ear, flicking the dainty gold hoop earring with his tongue.

"I always knew," she said. Jeff explored the tense muscles of her back as he pulled her closer. They had never before been so bold in public. "I think we should wait until we're home," she whispered.

"I can't wait." He reached beneath her ivory hoodie and touched her belly through the lime-green t-shirt.

The sneakers of the Curtis High cross-country track team sounded in the distance. They were approaching the field, readying for the afternoon's practice.

Jeff crushed her petite body to his sweaty torso. He kissed the tip of her freckled nose and smirked. "You owe me when we get home, little girl."

She blushed and nodded as the first runner sprawled out on the track, stretching his sinewy body.

No one knew about her relationship with Jeff, save for Jenny. And technically, she never told Jenny. She didn't have to. Her best friend seemed all-knowing when it came to Dawn.

When Dawn made the first casual hint about pulling up roots and moving to Calgary with Jeff, Jenny removed all ambiguity about where she stood regarding the siblings' relationship. Despite her most compelling arguments on the depravity of it all, Jenny could never quite talk Dawn away from Jeff.

"Do what's best forhim." An approach of slowly chipping away with logic seemed to work the best for Jenny. "There will be teammates, reporters. What is Jeff supposed to tell them? Will you be his girlfriend, his wife?"

His wife, the thought made Dawn's heart beat faster than she ever thought possible.

"What if just one person finds out? Just one." To emphasize her point, Jenny held up her index finger. "It would be over, Dawn, his career, his life. No one would trust him to ever do anything again."

No one would ever find out. Dawn was sure of it. They were careful, for the most part. She could play the part of the adoring little sister in public; she had been doing it for so long. In private, they could be lovers. Whose business is it what happens in the privacy of their home? Who would they be hurting?

"What if your Dad found out?"

Dawn considered the question a moment. "Daddy would never do anything to hurt me."

"Not you," Jenny said. "What would he do to Jeff? What would he do if the son made more money and won more acclaim in one little season than the father had in his entire life."

No, Dawn reassured herself.Daddy is a good man. He would never do anything to hurt his family. Of course, deep down she knew that wasn't true. Daddy had cheated on Mom. Daddy had left Mom. The family would have disintegrated had Mom not suddenly become ill.

"Jeff humiliated him once," Jenny pointed out. "Maybe your Dad's been waiting for the perfect chance to repay the favor." Jenny wasn't trying to exploit the Kramer family's all-too obvious flaws for some unscrupulous agenda. She was simply trying to protect her best friend in the entire world.

The call came at last: "Flight 113." Jeff cradled a messenger bag under his arms. He kissed Dawn's freckled cheeks and beamed. "God, I'm going to miss you." He had talked nonstop about how the next four days would be hell while they were apart. She could tell that he wanted to kiss her good and proper, the way any departing lover would want.

The call for his flight repeated. Dawn smiled for him, in spite of the fact that she was dying inside. She had to do it quick, like ripping a band-aid. "I think we have to stop."

His smirk drooped for a second then his green eyes narrowed. "Stop what?"

"You're moving on and I'm moving on, and I think we should stop."

"Stop what?" He would repeat his question forever unless she answered it directly.

"Stop being together."

His chin drooped a bit; his eyes opened wide. "You're kidding me, right?"

Her tears were no jest. "We should--we need to stop before things go too far." She had no idea what she was saying. She would babble and babble until he decided to leave her.

"Please don't kid about something like this." He took her hand, but she ripped it away. "Dawn, what--what are you doing?"

She knew what she had to say. They were the only words that would ever convince him. "I never loved you. It's just that you were so brave with Jase Riley and you sacrificed so much. I couldn't just reject you."

"Jesus Christ, Dawn, please say you're joking me. Smile, giggle, do anything to show you're joking."

The scenario was like a nightmare for her. She could only imagine the effects her words had on Jeff. "I'm sorry." She hid behind her palms, crying freely.

"You're sorry? You're fucking sorry?" He slung his messenger bag as far as he could, which was extremely far. It skidded down the walkway.

A final boarding call echoed.

"You're sorry." He muttered the words before storming away, seemingly forever.

Dawn awoke; sweat soaked her body. She had meant to lie down for a moment, after returning home from the rehearsal dinner, but had fallen asleep for more than two hours. The halls rang again with the chimes that had stirred her, the doorbell.

Covered by only a black bra and matching panties, her wet skin glistened with sweat as she hunted for her silk robe. She found it and tied it around her waist as fast as she could. Stumbling down the stairs, Dawn moved past the sofa, where her father had fallen asleep in front of the television. The doorbell rang again, just as she reached the door. A hearty knock sounded through the wood of the door.

After disengaging the deadbolt, Dawn turned the knob. The door unlocked with a click as it opened.

It was Jeff, still dressed in his banquet attire. He asked if he'd awakened her. She lied and said he hadn't.

"We need to talk," he said.

Dawn took a moment to assess him. His shirt was half-buttoned and completely un-tucked, and his pants were in desperate need of pressing. His hair was mussed and his jaw dusted by the faintest trace of stubble. He almost looked disheveled, if it were even possible for someone so handsome to look disheveled. Clearly, his decision to come had been a hasty one.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked at last.

He didn't immediately respond; he just stared, his dark eyes hinting downward. Apparently, she hadn't tied the robe's sash securely enough. The black of her lingerie and white of her skin were on display for him. When she made no move to correct the situation, he reached to touch the warm skin of her belly. Her muscles clenched, and goosebumps rose on her pale skin.

"We need to talk," he repeated. His hand rested on her naked belly. He must have felt her breath quicken.

Dawn glanced over her shoulder. Daddy was asleep in front of the television. There was little chance of him waking, yet Dawn wanted to be sure.

"Upstairs," she said. When she offered her hand, he took it in his own enormous hand. She led him up the stairs, her bare feet padding quietly on the soft cream carpet.

When they reached the sanctity of her bedroom, Dawn closed the door and turned the lock. Jeff had already seated himself at the foot of her bed. She sat close beside him, so close that their hips almost touched.

"What a long day," Jeff said. He stared forward, eyeing the closed door. "Kind of crazy, too."

"Totally." She snickered nervously. "I didn't realize Roger knew so many people."

"There were a lot of people, too many. The food was good, though."

Dawn couldn't comment; jittery nerves had ruined her appetite.

"Dawn?" She turned to find his handsome face gazing down at her. "When I kissed you this afternoon, what did you feel?"

She considered the question for a moment, formulating the words in her head: happy and sad, brave and afraid, safe and imperiled. Nearly every emotion known to woman, she had felt. Withholding this information she answered, "Nothing."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "I know better than that, Sunshine. You felt something because you kissed me back." Climbing off the bed, he fell to his knees in front of her. He pushed the silky fabric of the robe aside, uncovering her knees. His hands settled on her bare legs. "Tell me what you felt."

"I..." Her mouth remained open, even though she couldn't coax the words from her lips. She needed him to stop, needed him to leave. Every moment she spent staring into Jeff's warm green eyes, her resistance faded. "I..." This was it, the edge of oblivion. Would she turn away, or leap with open arms?

"We can't." She freed her knees from his gentle grasp and scooted backwards towards the head of the bed.

Jeff sat at the foot of the mattress once more, draping his long legs over the side. "Does Roger ever make you feel the way you do right now?"

Roger was great, but he had never given her a dry mouth, a racing pulse, or a feeling that something so wrong can feel so right.

Jeff flopped backwards. "I can't do anything about my last name." Neither could she; fate was so cruel that way. "But I can promise you that no one will ever love you the way I do."

She understood what he meant. Roger could be a friend and a lover, but he would never be a brother. Only Jeff could ever be all three.

"I don't get paid very much, and the taxes are ridiculous, but I can be a good husband." Jeff as her husband, thinking about it made her heart flutter again. "I'm an asshole; God, I'm such a huge asshole, but I would never hurt you, never cheat on you."

He was not an asshole. Whatever his imperfections might have been, Jeff Kramer was unyieldingly loyal. Loyalty to his mother had prevented him from making peace with his father, even after so many years.

"Is it kids then?" he asked. Lying on his back, Jeff arched his eyebrows and waited for her answer.

When Roger had first proposed, Dawn became excited about the prospects of starting a family. Her own blood, her own genes, what could be more exciting than creating a little life? Over time, it became clear that Roger wasn't very interested in children. She found herself adopting his opinion that children and careers were incompatible. A family didn't seem to be in the cards.

"I could give you kids." He sounded so sincere.

"Stop being ridiculous." She knew he wasn't ignorant to the risks. Other than a few fumbles, safe sex had been a part of the routine when they were together.

"Could you imagine a kid with my looks and your brains?" He must have seen the look she tossed him, "Or your looks and your brains. Face it; as long as they didn't end up with my brains, our kids would be perfect."

She felt her insides warm as she inched towards him on her knees. Jeff turned his head just as she settled near him. He touched his lips to her bare knee.

"You know I'm getting married, and you know there is nothing you can do to stop it, so why did you come here?" She asked the question despite already knowing the answer.

"I'm a quarterback, Sunshine. When quarterbacks are behind with seconds to go they stop thinking about the little dink and dunk passes; they stop thinking about everything except throwing the ball as hard and as far as they can."

He was throwing a Hail Mary in a desperate attempt to win her back. If only he realized how hopeless the situation was. He had never lost her love. She desired him more that moment, with his cheek settling against her lap, than she ever had.

She stroked the side of his face, his ear. She touched the bridge of his nose and felt the knot where he'd sacrificed himself to protect her. If only she could be so brave. She kissed his cheek and bade him to sit up. They kissed, innocently at first with a passion that built momentum like a freight train.

All thoughts of Roger washed away. Jeff was right: No man would ever love her the way he did, and she would love no other man the way she loved Jeff.

His tongue entered her mouth, returning to seek a familiar partner. Time seemed to be on hold, yet the minutes ticked away as they lost themselves in the kiss. He slipped the robe from her shoulders, following the action by kissing the exposed skin.

No longer idle, her fingers unfastened the few buttons that held Jeff's shirt together. He hadn't worn an undershirt beneath the button-up shirt, giving her the opportunity to touch his newly developed abdominal muscles. Nothing bulged or flexed; there was no six-pack or washboard, yet he felt perfect. The skinny little boy had become the definition of health by exercising and curbing the junk from his diet. He was a man now; she couldn't deny it.

Jeff worked the hooks of her bra loose. The black cups drifted to her lap, baring her milk-white breasts. Dawn's heart thumped audibly in her chest. She felt much the same as she had the very first time they made proper love, when he had come to her room to return the towel from her bath. She had been naked then, too. The lust in his eyes hadn't dulled since that time. In fact, it seemed to have grown more intense.

He touched her breast, applying just enough pressure to turn the white skin even whiter. Roger often hinted about her taking up tanning. He disliked her pale skin; it reminded him of the light-depraved patients wandering the bleak, bleached halls of County General Hospital. Once, she tried to explain that the more she tanned the more her freckles seemed to multiply. She didn't want more freckles; she already had plenty.

Jeff placed his hand beneath a breast. Pretending to weigh and measure the milky orb, he contorted his face into a fascinated expression. "I think they're bigger," he said. He brushed the underside of both breasts, causing Dawn to shudder. "You are so soft." He skillfully manipulated the tender flesh.

Sometimes Roger would squeeze her breasts when they kissed. Roger was never so gentle.

"How did you get to be so soft?" He smirked and caressed her breast.

"Maybe I'm overripe," she said.

He considered her hypothesis, tapping his forehead with the tip of his finger. "No, you look fresh to me." Wanting a second opinion, he bent forward to take her left nipple into his mouth. He suckled for several moments, hungrily moaning as he did. He released the nipple with a moistpop. "Definitely fresh," he said. "Though, you're not quite as soft as before." He flicked her stiff nipple, splattering a bead of his saliva across her chest.

"Oh, Jeff." She wished she could be more articulate, but when she was with Jeff, wit and charm were a luxury.

Speaking may have been a problem for Dawn, but actions were definitely not. She unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt and removed the shirt from his body. With his torso fully revealed, she could see just how much her brother had grown up. It was impressive.

When she separated him from the khaki slacks, she could see that the lower floors had seen their share of renovations as well. The muscles that had defined his calves so well in the shorts that morning continued upward to his thighs. She remembered the spindly-legged albatross that had slung passes across the practice field at Choteau. Had it not been for the same handsome face, she would have had trouble reconciling this masculine being with her gangly big brother.

As she drank in his body, the lump in his black boxer briefs grew into a respectable tent.

Jeff's lips quivered. The quarterback's smirk transformed into the shy schoolboy's smile she had longed to see. Jeff was outgoing by nature, confident and self-assured. However, when he smiled like that, when the confident veneer dissolved, revealing the sensitive, insecure little boy he pretended not to be, her heart never failed to melt.

He worked her panties down, sliding them away inch by excruciating inch. Balanced on her knees, she spread her legs, inviting him to have his way. He treated her delicately, like a tropical blossom that might drop its petals if he applied anything more than a feather's touch. He sniffed her sex, kissed it. Extending his tongue, Jeff tasted her sexual essence.

When he finally decided to probe with his finger, it felt lighter than a tickle. Dawn bit her bottom lip and exhaled through her nostrils. Of course, he had no idea, but his delicate touch was far more teasing than pleasing. She seized his wrist. Taking command of his motions, she ground his wriggling fingers against her slit.

After she released his wrist, Jeff took over. No longer the delicate explorer, he ventured into the sweltering jungle. Her moisture collected on his fingers. From there it transferred to her thighs, the bed, anything he touched.

"Jeff!" She meant to tell him something, but as soon as the thought entered her head, it dissolved into nothingness.

"I want---" He tried to speak but her lips silenced him. She released the kiss and asked him what he wanted. "I want you, Sunshine." He kissed her tiny, tender earlobe and whispered, "I want you now and forever."

She shuddered as his finger entered her to the first knuckle. She wanted him inside of her so badly. He was the only man who had ever made love to her. She never wanted there to be anyone else.

Poor old Roger, he would be so disappointed when she talked to him tomorrow.

He probed the tender pink flesh of her insides, collecting moisture on his long finger, extracting it, and tasting it. She smelled her own arousal, a powerful musk that seemed to fuel both their lusts. Jeff angled himself between her legs, resting his head against the mattress and drawing her crotch towards his mouth.

She lowered herself, until she was almost sitting on his handsome face. His tongue felt heavenly, as it lapped the moisture from her labia. Rough yet soft, the tongue reaped a familiar pleasure. Jeff had brought her pleasure orally on many, many occasions; guided by her tiny moans of encouragement, he had perfected the technique, mastering the art of cunnilingus.

His tongue burrowed deeply into her body, tasting, teasing. She leaned forward, almost collapsing against his lean body. Beneath the black boxer briefs, his penis reached proudly toward the ceiling. Rolling the black fabric down his hips, she freed his penis. It felt alive in her small hands, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

She wanted to taste him again; it had been so long. Dawn took the head in her mouth, squeezing the spongy flesh between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

"Oh God, you have to take it out!"

Upon his orders, she released his hard penis from her mouth. Had she done something wrong? Had she hurt him with her teeth? Dawn wondered as Jeff disengaged their sixty-nine position and sat up.

"I was ready to cum way too soon," Jeff explained. He playfully fanned his crotch, pretending to cool himself off. "You are way too good at that. Have you been practicing?"

She settled in beside him and giggled. "No! You know you're the only guy I've been with."

"I wasn't implying that you'd been with another man. I was thinking more along the lines of carrots, bananas, and zucchini."

"A zucchini, are you serious, or have you been reading Tara's playbook?"

Jeff brushed a strand of red hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "You shouldn't make fun of your friends, especially not Tara." His breath exuded the hinted aroma of Dawn's sex.