Big Yellow Taxi
Chapter 7
** There is some recreational drug use in this chapter. (Just pot smoking.) I doubt its going to bother anyone but just in case I figured I better throw up a warning. **
Daryl's fear that Merle would get them both thrown out had been put to rest for the time being. It seemed the sterotype about hippies smoking a lot of pot was true. Because once they figured out he had a substantial amount of marijuana on him all of Merle's previous verbal indiscretions were immediately forgiven.
"Do you mind if I roll a few small ones instead of one big one?," Rowan asked, peering up at Merle through her dark eyelashes as she leaned over the section of the large butcher block kitchen island that had been carefully cleared of vegetables craps and then wiped down with a damp cloth for the express purpose of having a clean spot to roll a joint. Merle shrugged like he didn't care, but he watched the young woman with more interest than he usually expended on people. He had smoked pot with girls before. Lots of girls. Two glasses of wine and half a joint made getting their pants off a lot easier. But he had never seen a girl roll a joint before. Women were lazy. And besides that, he doubted most of them even knew how. Like changing a tire or leveling a picture frame, rolling a joint was the sort of task most women simply relied on men to do for them.
Ayla gigged before she added, "Rowan likes her own joint so no one will find out she slobers like a dog." This sent both women into a fit of laughter and they bantered back and forth playfully about who in fact slobbered more and where such slober might end up before the night was over.
"Hurry it up Roe," Aaron called in from the kitchen doorway where he had stationed himself to keep watch. Rowan waved her hand at him dismissively but Daryl noticed that she stopped horsing around with her friend and got back to the task at hand. Since her eyes were focused on the countertop Daryl felt free to observe her without the risk of making too much direct eye contact.
Her body was slim but not without curves to it. The shirt she had on was the type that tied around the neck and the middle of the back, leaving most of her freckled back and shoulders bare. With her long hair falling forward over her shoulders, Daryl could see the line of her spine and the top curve of her hips as she leaned down over the counter. She had two twin dimples on her lower back. Venus dimples. That's what they were called. Named after Venus, the roman goddess of love. A stripper who had hers peirced told him that once. Daryl had gotten stuck talking to her while he was waiting for Merle to get done selling drugs or getting blown or whatever the hell he had been doing for twenty damn minutes in the bathroom of the disgusting place.
On the stripper, with her cheap tacky looking peircings nestled inside them, Daryl had not found the markings to be sexually appealing. But seeing them on the pale freckled skin of Rowan's lower back was an entirely different experience. On her, the name for the dimples seemed fitting. She looked like the goddess of something, in her long flowy skirt with the faded white fringed scarf that swung in time to her graceful movements.
Daryl leaned back against the counter. He glanced at his brother to make sure the man wasn't paying him any attention. Then he reached down and tried to subtly adjust the crotch of his tightening pants. Daryl didn't know what was wrong with him. Getting a random public hard-on was a problem he hadn't had to deal with since puberty. He tried to distract himself by thinking about hunting. About sports that he wasn't even really interested in. About anything other than the mental image of him on his knees in front of Rowan's naked body as he flicked his tounge into the dimples on her back one at a time.
"They make a cream for that ya know," Merle informed him with an evil grin. Daryl yanked his hand away from the front of his pants.
"Shuddup," he hissed at his brother, directing a quick flash of his middle finger at the man. Normally he wouldn't dare to give Merle the finger. But since Daryl was at least 80 percent sure Merle wasn't going to ruin his chances with the pretty girl that had already attached herself to his side by beating the shit out of him in front of her, he figured it was worth the risk.
Rowan finished rolling the last joint. She plucked it up between her thumb and forefinger, thrusting it over towards Merle for his approval before she handed him back the baggie that contained the rest of his pot. Merle turned the joint around in his hand. He squinted and held it up close to his face, giving the item a much more serious inspection than the situation called for. Rowan bit her lip, trying to fight off a smile. While Rowan smoked only occasionally, her mother was what she considered to be a more serious pot smoker. Along with a few different tea blends and tinctures, the woman used the herb medicinally to fight off migraine headaches and severe menstral cramps. Rowan had been watching her mother roll up joints since before she was even old enough to know what they were.
Seeing that Rowan was finished, Aaron left his guard dog postion at the kitchen door and started shooing them all towards a small pantry near the back of the room. The man was in a much bigger rush than the girls seemed to be and his behavior was starting to make Daryl a little nervous. He didn't care much about breaking the rules himself, but Daryl didn't want to do anything to get Rowan in trouble. Even though it was painfully obvious now that this wasn't her first time smoking, he still felt like he was being a bad influence on her.
Daryl reminded himself that Rowan was likely much more worldly than she first appeared, but that did not change the fact that she looked gentle and innocent in the ways of the rough world he was used to. Daryl was already feeling guilty about all the dirty thoughts he had been having about her and he didn't need to add corrupting her with drugs to the list of things he had already done wrong. Taking her for a walk and a glass of lemonade is what he felt like he ought to be doing with a sweet girl like her. Or maybe down to the lake with some popcorn and old stale bread to feed the ducks. Not craming them both into a tiny pantry where he planned to hot box her with pot smoke.
"What's the deal?," Daryl asked Aaron as the man swung open the door to the food pantry and all but shoved everyone inside, "smokin' ain't allowed 'round here or what?"
Ayla laughed again. It seemed high pitched giggling was her response to everything Daryl or his brother said. At least she had a pretty sounding laugh, or she would have crossed the line into being annoying a long time ago. Rowan didn't laugh but she did smile at him, showing the eye tooth on one side of her mouth that stuck out a little. Then she cast her eyes down and bit her lip like she was ashamed of what she was about to say.
"No," she assured him, "it's allowed..." Rowan paused like she didn't want to admit the rest. Luckily Aaron had no problems owning up to his own selfishness.
"We don't want anyone to see us smoking because we don't want to have to share," he cheerfully announced. Rowan looked down, fiddling with a long piece of fringe on the scarf around her waist. Then she flicked her big dark eyes up at Daryl. She was biting at her lower lip again, looking up at him like a child seeking approval from a parent. It took him a moment to register what was going on. She was actually afraid he wasn't going to like her anymore because she wanted to smoke without having to share with everyone she knew. He had been so nervous that Rowan didn't like him, Daryl hadn't stopped to think such a beautiful woman might be feeling the same way about him. Knowing she wasn't as calm and confident as she seemed made him instantly feel ten times more relaxed. Relaxed enough to smile down at her and finally confident enough to rest his hand on her hip and pull her in close enough to plant a chaste kiss on the top of her hair. He lingered close for a moment longer, breathing in the scent of her. She smelled like lavender and coconut oil which only registered in Daryl's mind as something woodsy and good and not like too much cheap perfume.
Aaron elbowed in and pulled the handleless door shut behind them, swinging it hard and then yanking his fingers out to keep them from being smashed. As Aaron fumbled around above them for the chain that would turn the light on, they were completely shrouded in darkness. Daryl heard Ayla squeal as his brother used the opportunity to grope some forbidden part of her body. Whatever he grabbed must have either hurt or tickled her because she squealed louder and jerked away from him. Ayla bumped her body into Rowan's, sending her slamming against Daryl. Before Rowan could right herself and pull away, Daryl wrapped his arms around her and held her protectively close. With both arms around her waist he held her flush against his chest and turned his body so if there was any further horsing around between his brother and Rowan's friend their flailing limbs would hit into his back and not smack into Rowan's face.
Daryl's instinct had been protective and without a lot of forethought. Because if he had thought about it first he would have realized that grabbing Rowan and holding her close would press the round curve of her ass flush against the hard swell of the erection he was trying to pretend wasn't throbbing uncomfortably inside his jeans. He wasn't exactly small either, so he knew there was no way she didn't feel it. Daryl expected her to be repulsed. Even though she had given him ever indication that she was interested. She had invited him here. She had touched him and allowed him to touch her. He still expected rejection and disgust. When she pulled away a fraction he jerked his hands of her body like she was on fire. But Rowan wasn't pulling away, she was only spinning around in his arms to face him. Reaching blindly through the darkness, she caught his hands in hers and placed them back on her, resting them on the curves of her hips.
Lighting up the dark confines of the pantry, Rowan could see the auras of the people around her. Aaron's and Ayla's she regonized easily. Aaron was always violet with a hint of green and white. Ayla's was sunny golden yellow, just like the color of her hair. She was tinged with more red than usual but Rowan still knew it was her. But she hadn't had the chance to concentrate hard enough on Daryl yet to see what his looked like. Rowan was surprised by what she saw. There were little red lightning streaks of passion, a sign of his obvious desire for her. But mostly he was a pale blue grey. The color of someone that had felt alone in the world for so much longer than just a day. In that moment she knew, Daryl was the saddest man that had ever held her in his arms.
Though Rowan didn't specialize in the art of healing like her mother did, people often told her she had the soul of a healer. She had never fully understood what they meant or believed them until she felt the reaction inside her to seeing Daryl's aura. It was like she could feel how alone he was. Her nipples went hard beneath the thin material of her shirt. She didn't just want to be physical with him. It was more like she had to. Her desire to heal the wounds in his soul was a throbbing need that she felt in every part of her body at once.
Rowan's mother was fond of saying that Rowan was her wild girl. This was the woman's kind and sweet way of scolding Rowan for acting on her impulses without thinking about the consequences first. Something she had been doing since she was old enough to walk. Rowan climbed high trees, wrestled dogs, rode unbroken horses at breakneck speeds through the woods, and once she was old enough she started off onto a new adventure. Love. She had a bad habit of falling into bed with men that she found either beautiful or exciting. In her mother's opinion, this was the way to find a lover, not a partner. Rowan hadn't listened at first, but after she left a few young men brokenhearted and crying when she didn't want more from them than friendship after they had a few rolls in the hay, Rowan had started trying her best to heed her mother's advice and think before she acted.
Normally this would be the moment when Rowan would hear her mother's voice in her head, telling her to hold back. Not to do whatever crazy thing she was thinking of doing at the time. But in the small confinces of the dark pantry the only thing Rowan could hear was the whoosh of her own heartbeat in her ears. She grabbed for Daryl's hands and placed them back on her hips, allowing him to choose if he wanted to wrap them around her waist again. He did. She could feel his need, hard beneath the rough material of his jeans and pressed against the smooth cool flesh of her belly.
Her hand snaked down between them. Daryl's pants were fitted, so she couldn't slip her hands inside them. The delightful thought crossed her mind that once they were lovers she was going to have to introduce him to wearing looser fitting clothing so that every part of his body would be accessible to her at all times. This made her giggle. She couldn't put her hand down his pants, so she rubbed him through them. It only took the heat of her touch and a few rhythmic strokes before Rowan heard the sharp intake of his breath and the aura around him exploded with a quick flash of crimson.
"Found it," Aaron called out as he yanked the pull chain with a metallic click and blinded them all with the bright light of the bare bulb that hung inside the small pantry. Rowan spun again, placing her body in front of Daryl's so he would have a moment to adjust or compose himself or whatever men needed to do after they orgasmed inside their pants.
Daryl felt like he had been caught inside of some sort of strange dream. Since he pulled down the long drive that led into Rowan's home everything had an otherworldly quality to it. The trees seemed taller. The grass looked greener. Even food tasted better. To be fair anything tasted better than greasy fast food or grilled up game meats with no seasoning, which were ususally the only meals his budget would allow. But he still couldn't remember having food that tasted as good as the meal he had quickly consumed as they all stood chatting back and forth near the buffet table. As Daryl squinted his eyes at the sudden bright light of the pantry he seriously considered pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
She had touched him. Girls had touched him before. But it never felt like that. He thought Rowan was recoiling from him after feeling his erection pressing into her. The next thing he knew her hand was on him and he was ejaculating in his pants like some kind of inexperienced teenager. The weird part about it, besides how fast it had happened, was that he got the distinct feeling she had rubbed him off on purpose. They hadn't even kissed yet. So it seemed like a crazy thing for a girl to do. Especially a good girl, which is how he had already catagorized Rowan in his mind. Beautiful and generous and far too good for the likes of him. Daryl knew that right from the moment he met her.
Rowan flicked her eyes up at him, the blush rising in her cheeks before she quickly looked back down at her feet again. Despite feeling a sudden rush of bravery seconds before, now she was feeling shy again, scared of what this man might think of a girl that was bold enough to place her hands on a stranger so intimately. Daryl smiled back at her, thinking about her eyes. He thought they were brown at first, but in the brighter light he could see they were actually more of a deep golden green. Rowan gave him one more quick glance before she took the joint that Aaron was passing to her and sucked in a long deep breath. Closing her eyes, she hummed and leaned back against Daryl's chest, melting into him like she was sinking into a bubble bath.
Daryl hestitated, his insecuritites and the questions he had about her motives bubbling to the surface of his mind. But when Rowan blinked her eyes open and smiled up at him, he felt the tornado of emotions inside him simmer down into a dull roar. Her wrapped one strong arm around her waist, the rough plane of his palm resting against the bare skin of her midrift. The same part of her that his erection had been pressing against only moments before. Feeling braver now after their brief intimate contact, Daryl didn't grip her stiffly in his arms like he had when he was only trying to put his body between her and their wrestling companions. This time he relaxed into her and let himself actually feel her skin with his hand. His fingers remained still but his thumb stroked gently back and forth across the soft skin just under her belly button. He normally wouldn't engage in such a public display of affection. But since his brother was now openly groping the woman in his arms, touching Rowan's stomach felt mild by comparison.
Daryl looked down at her as she smiled up at him. Her cheeks were flushed with color under her freckles and the bright design she had painted on her face, but her smile was warm and inviting. Rowan didn't think she was too good for him. And if that's how she felt he wasn't going to tell her she was wrong.
