Author Note: Chapter 12 has arrived! And can you believe we are down to single digits, folks. There are only 9 chapters left in this story. Nine! Holy cow! Again, I want to send out my forever thanks to all those who have shown such great support for this story. To those who have continued to make my writing better with their suggestions and critics. And simply just listened to me rant and complain while I write. Thank you all so, so much! This story wouldn't be anything like it is without you! Again, I try my hardest to respond to reviews, but life always seem to get away from me. Trust me, that doesn't mean I am any less grateful. I love and re-read every review. If you have questions(plot, character, etc. wise) I do try to respond as well, if I missed one please send me a PM or add another review and I'll get to it!
Always, Court81981 rules all. Thank you so much for all you do!
Summary: There are also three types of people in Dawson, Texas: those who are trying to flee, those who embrace their small town fate, and the Mellarks. Mellark Ranch; largest cattle ranch South of Dallas, employer of ranch hand, Katniss Everdeen, and home of Ohio State Buckeye running back, Peeta Mellark. And Peeta Mellark is coming home today.
Lone Star State of Mine
Chapter Twelve: Anything But Mine
"And I don't see how you could ever be anything but mine."
Stars.
They aren't something folks around here get too excited about. Just like skyscrapers and bright lights really aren't things city natives get too excited about. Most nights around here they pepper the sky like fireflies; they start at the horizon of the farthest pasture and go as far as the eye can see. We take them for granted. But that's not uncommon for something so common. Plus, no one around here really knows any fascinating facts about said stars. The only constellation most people can point out is Orion's belt. Three stars, in a straight line. Future astronomers we are not.
And contrary to popular belief, most romantic nights do not take place beneath the stars. The idea is sweet, sure, but in reality it usually ends rather badly. If the elephant-sized mosquitoes don't make you itch from head to toe within fifteen minutes you're usually starting to feel the late night dew form against your skin. In theory, again, after a hot day that sounds rather appealing but then the night chills set in. Which is nothing you're dressed for because wearing anything but cutoffs and a tank top in Texas after June is a felony — and just plain foolish.
Of course for the right guy, any girl would go along with a mosquito-filled night in the back of a pickup with a smile on her face and shiver up her spine. I used to roll my eyes when Samantha would come to work the morning after a particularly anticipated date with pink ointment all over skin. She looked like a diseased cast-off, but she always had a smile on her face. I didn't understand it. Why not just come inside after the sun's gone down? Watch the sunset, gush about how romantic and perfect is all is, and run to the nearest building before you were forced to scratch your skin off.
Samantha would always laugh at my reasonable suggestion. She never said why she laughed — she'd simply shake her head and laugh. I didn't understand what was so funny. It was obviously a good idea with merit.
Then I realized certain things tend to blur your reason. For everyone it's different. For me, it's a mop of curly blonde hair and searing blue eyes. It's the way his arms come around me and I lean into him so naturally. It's the way he whispers into my ear and I suddenly feel like I'm in on the secret. The thing that most girls my age have experienced several times over, but I'm certain it wasn't like this. It couldn't be. They didn't have Peeta. Peeta. The one person I'm starting to believe knows me better than myself. And it's frightening and thrilling all at the same time. The one person who makes me feel like I'm jumping into the great unknown all while falling right into place. Where I belong.
And that will make a girl sit in the bed of an old pickup truck, the smell of bug spray stinging her nostrils, the blankets surrounding her like a mountain of cushions. The chill in the night air all seems to fade away when his fingers graze across your bare collarbone while his lips linger over the nape of your neck. The shivers you get aren't from the night air then. You lean back against him then, but it's not for warmth. It's for more.
Peeta's other hand rests against my abdomen and it feels as though it's burning right through me. He's not progressing though. He's lips linger around my shoulder, but he does nothing more. It aggravates me. And he knows it, which frustrates me more. He has turned me into some kind of monster that craves his touch for survival. He loves it. I don't. Because lately it reminds me that soon his touch will be states away. His touch won't be something I get every day. It'll be something that keeps me awake at night. It'll be the ghost I feel in my quiet, breaking moments.
He's leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow. And I have said nothing about any of it. Neither has he. It scares me. Is he going to say anything? Is he planning to simply pack his bag and leave me here without answers? I don't do open-ended well. I don't do stressful conversations well either. That's why I was hoping he'd be the one to tear off that Band-Aid. He hasn't and I haven't. And this inner monologue has played in my head nonstop for nearly a week. I'm slowly unraveling while he remains fully intact.
His fingers that were once on my collarbone have come to join his other hand against my stomach, holding me close. My hands rest against the worn material of his jeans and I find a snag in the fabric to occupy myself with. Normally our silences are comfortable, but this one is tense — at least for me. I have so many questions running through my mind I'm surprised they aren't flashing on my forehead. He leans against the toolbox, and his breathing is steady and calm. I lean against him and my heart feels like it's going to fall right out of my chest.
"You're leaving tomorrow." I blurt out in my typical fashion.
I'm afraid of what he's going to say. I'm afraid he's going to blow this conversation off as no big deal, like I was stating a fact that doesn't need defined. But it needs defined. We need defined. Are we for the summer? Just the thought makes my insides twist unpleasantly and my head ache. And when I feel the rumble of his chest from a low, quiet laugh, I nearly come undone. This really is a joke to him. This is not something he's been worried about at all. I've read all of this so wrong.
I feel his chin come to rest on my shoulder and his arms tighten around me. He holds me close for a moment and then lets out a sigh. "Thank god."
My skin goes cold, my veins turn to ice, and I'm left hardly able to gasp out an answer. Thank god? He's ready to leave me? I open and close my mouth several times, but no words will form. I want to push him away and simultaneously hold him closer. My natural instincts to push people away start to kick in and I dread the cool exterior I know will come from this — the cool exterior I had started when my father died, but was somehow warmed by Peeta's constant, gentle persistence to get past it.
"I thought your distance was because you were getting tired of me," he says, his breath tickling my skin.
And then I want to smack him. I want to turn around and smack him square in the face for making me believe he was somehow thankful to get away from me. But then I want to kiss him for being so patient. For noticing my distance, the distance I thought I was hiding so well, and still waiting for me. For knowing me well enough to know I wasn't ready to talk about it. Because even though I silently hoped he'd bring it up I also inwardly knew if he did before I was ready that I would push him away. Pushing people away was my specialty, but Peeta is quickly becoming a statue that couldn't be shoved.
"Well that too," I say, trying to make a joke, but my voice comes out too small to be effective.
Peeta laughs again, and this time it's louder and reassuring to me. I can imagine the way his eyes sparkle in the darkness behind him. I can see the one dimple I have grown to love, the crease in his forehead and the arch of his eyebrows. I have memorized every piece of this boy and that thought sends me up in flames. I have kissed his hipbone, nipped at this ribcage, and licked the spot on the inside of his knee that causes him to laugh. Peeta Mellark is ticklish behind his knees — I know that.
"It'll go by faster than you know it," Peeta mentions, bringing me back to the conversation I suddenly don't care if we have. "The fall is a busy time around here. And I'll be that awful, annoying boyfriend who calls you every night."
"You were always clingy."
"To you. I'll always be," He continues without missing a beat. "I expect naked pictures weekly."
I gasp, turning to look at him as I smack his leg. I twist so I'm facing him properly, my legs hang over his and the space between us once again becomes nonexistent.
His grin is more beautiful than I can ever imagine in my memory. Our laughter fills the quiet night. My eyes are as wide as saucers, and I'm thankful the only light we have is the dim, distant moon as my blush creeps through me. The idea of taking pictures of myself naked makes me cringe. I could never. I'd look like some kind of fool.
"And all those girls wanting a piece of a Buckeye football stud?" I ask, my jealously oozing from me in the most unattractive way.
"I'm sure a I know of a couple," he muses, looking into my eyes with such sincerity. "You know me as more than that. You know me. Why would I ever go somewhere else?"
He's right and I'm surprised he's not upset for me thinking so little of him. He had plenty of opportunity before we met to "go somewhere else" and he didn't. They weren't what he was looking for, and I am. The thought still sends shocks through me because I never thought that kind of connection truly existed. But it does and I'm a part of it.
"Plus, I have Johanna to ward off all the groupies," Peeta smirks, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind me ear. "She scares most of them enough that they won't even speak to me."
"Your own personal bodyguard."
"My own personal bodyguard." He repeats, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. "But I really don't need her. This all may be pretty sudden and fast, but you need to know, Katniss, for me you're it."
I believe him completely and I understand him because I feel the same way. Peeta Mellark was nothing I saw coming until he was right in front of me and suddenly I can't believe I'd been wearing blinders this whole time.
"You're it for me," I echo softly, reaching up to rest my hands on his cheeks. My eyes close as I just revel in this closeness. And I know it's not always going to be this easy, but it's all going to be worth it.
Peeta doesn't let the moment pass and reaches his lips to mine. The kiss is soft, softer than I've ever experienced. I try to deepen the kiss, quicken it somehow and show him my obvious need, but he keeps the kisses light. His lips feel like a ghost against mine. He presses his mouth gently against mine and then pulls away just enough to kiss the corner of my mouth and then he's kissing my chin, followed by the end of my nose. He worships my face before coming back in for another kiss.
This is the kiss that undoes me. This is the kiss that tells me where the rest of the night is heading, as if I ever had any doubts. My lips are parted slightly and I feel his tongue come across their sunburnt surface before meeting mine. My hands find purchase on his shoulders as he pulls me up to straddle him completely.
Peeta makes easy work of ridding me of my old tank top and is greeted by my bare breasts. I used to be self-conscious that my boobs were small enough to go unnoticed without a bra, but now I'm thankful for their modest size. I feel them go instantly hard when they're introduced to the cool night air. Peeta's hands slide up and down my bare back as he pulls me flush against him. I let my fingers tangle through the hairs at the nape of his neck as he tilts his head up to keep contact with my lips.
I don't realize one of Peeta's strong hands have left my back until I feel him worry one of my erect nipples between his fingertips. I gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to tangle his tongue further against mine. We battle for a dominance that neither of us really wants. We simply enjoy the chase.
He's the one who breaks the earth-shattering kiss and starts showing attention to my collarbone. His hand squeezes my breast gently while his teeth nip at the sensitive flesh near the base of me neck. The two sensations are enough to make me throw my head back in abandon. My hips instinctively rock against him, and his response is a raspy groan. He free hand squeezes my hip in appreciation and his mouth moves to capture my other, lonelier nipple.
"Oh God," I whimper, my eyes slamming shut.
"Peeta will do just fine," He mumbles, his lips still close enough to tickle my nipple with his words.
"Ass."
He doesn't respond, but I feel his laughter vibrate my chest lightly. And normally I'd push the issue, never wanting to be out-witted, but then he bites down and any words I would have thought of are long gone. The slight pain is masked easily by the immense pleasure that shoots through me. The things this man can do with just his mouth are criminal.
And then both of his hands drop to my hips and come to rest just atop the button of my jean shorts. He undoes the button easily, but in this position that is about all he's able to do. For a moment I remain seated there, bringing his lips back up to mine as I teasingly rock against him. I can feel how already soaked I am for him as I move. And then I remember where we are, and normally it would have stopped me in my tracks, but tonight is does nothing but thrill me.
Finally, after I can no longer take the teasing I'm causing us both, I move up to my knees and off to one side of a very aroused looking Peeta. I'm only away long enough to remove my shorts and panties before returning to my original position, the offending garments tossed elsewhere. When I'm pressed back against Peeta, I realize he's wearing far too many clothes for my liking and grab the hem of his t-shirt. He allows me to pull it off him easily and I know he's enjoying this controlling side I've learned to exhibit during sex. Most of the time I let him set the pace, but tonight it's all about what I want and he's going along with it easily.
I don't touch his jeans, yet. Instead I let my lips pepper his god-like chest, making a show of my nude form in front of him. I let my chest graze against his heated bare skin, and it causes us both to moan in pleasure. My confidence with Peeta has grown leaps and bounds in such a short time that I can't remember a time when it wasn't like this. But then again, Peeta has always made me brave.
When my lips can't reach any lower because of our current position I sit back up on my knees, Peeta's hands dropping from my sides to the bed of the truck. He looks up at me, and in the moonlight his eyes are nearly black with desire. I'm doing this to him. It thrills me. I lean down for a chaste kiss before moving my knees so I'm now positioned between his legs. This new angle allows me to kiss farther down the abdomen that I can't worship enough. I make slow work outlining the definition of his muscles with my tongue. My breasts rub against the worn fabric of his jeans and the roughness gives me chills.
I notice the bulge beneath the restricting item of clothing and again I'm flooded with pride. I'm doing this. I let my hand snake up his left thigh before coming to rest atop it while my mouth nips at his ribcage. His hips buck against me, and I know he's getting restless. I've never had him beg for it, but suddenly the idea of making Peeta do such a thing excites me — but not tonight. Tonight I've wound us both up so tightly that I think we'll explode into the night sky.
Instead I reach up and undo the button of his old work jeans. My eyes meet his and I give my best seductive smirk as I start to pull them down, his boxers along with them. He lifts his hips up so I can free his erection completely and my mouth practically waters as the sight. That's new. My confidence wavers slightly at the ideas running through my head, but my passion and curiously won't be denied tonight.
After Peeta's helped me remove his jeans and boxers, along with his shoes, I'm back in my position hovering above him. My hand runs along the inside of his thigh as I focus on not shaking. I follow my hand with a trail of kisses and feel Peeta tense beneath me. He's realized what my intentions are, and it only adds to my anxiety. Do I ask him what I should do? That feels like it would ruin the moment so instead I let my hand grip him, stroking him lazily as I look into his eyes. The excitement I find there gives me a sense of relief — so far I'm doing all right.
And then I let my lips come around the head of his cock and I suck experimentally. The groan that falls from Peeta's lips is animalistic and my chest swells. I continue my slow torture, taking as much of him in my mouth as possible and covering the rest of his length with my hand. It doesn't take but a couple seconds and I've found a moderate pace that Peeta seems to like and I squeeze him gently from time to time. Surprisingly enough, I find that I enjoy doing this sort of thing as much as I love receiving it. I enjoy the way Peeta's thighs tighten when I hit a particularly good rhythm. I enjoy the feel of his fingers tangled in my hair. And I enjoy the noises he makes above all.
"Fuck, Katniss," He moans and I continue my movement until I feel his hand on my arm, tugging slightly.
I slowly release him, afraid I've done something wrong until I see the wolfish grin that plagues his face. It's just the opposite; I've done something extremely right. He leans forward to capture my lips with mine. This kiss is so hungry I think we'll swallow each other whole before the night is done. My hands find purchase in his hair and we move so that I'm straddling him once again. I buck my hips, rubbing against him. But before we get too out of hand, Peeta reaches over to his discarded jeans to find the condom he keeps within his wallet.
Instantly I take it from him, tearing the small silver package open and starting to roll the latex material down his shaft slowly. He groans, his head going back against the toolbox and again I'm reminded of just how exposed we are. Sure, we're about a mile from the house, but still, this is the outdoors. This is indecent exposure and yet there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
Once the condom is in place I pull my attention back to Peeta's face. I lean in to kiss him while my hand guides him to my soaking entrance. We've done this position only once before and I'm still nervous about it, but the idea of having complete control over this gorgeous man pushes all fears to the side. Peeta's hands grip my hips, but he lets me slide down on him at my pace. And the pace is slow. In this position, I've learned, Peeta reaches farther in me than I'm used to and it still causes some discomfort.
My nails dig into his shoulders, and my whimpers mingle with his moans. Once we're joined completely I remain still for a moment, letting him stretch me, but the process doesn't take long and soon my body craves more friction. I start to rock my hips and Peeta instantly bucks his against mine. My head falls back, and I feel his lips come up against my pulse point.
I love Peeta always, but Peeta in the heat of passion is my absolute favorite. He loses all the control that he normally walks with. His stoic, calm nature is replaced with a wild need for pleasure and to please. He mumbles into my ear as his hands come up to tease my breasts. The mix of all these sensations leaves me knowing I'm not going to last long. In this position I normally don't.
My cries fill the night and Peeta grips my hips possessively. My need for control is replaced by my need for release and Peeta seems to know the speed for such a destination. He moves me until I'm falling on him at a quicker speed. My thrusts up and down are shallower, but he's still hitting all the right spots.
"I'm going —" I start, but cry out instead when a delicious wave of pleasure comes over me.
"Let go, Baby." He finishes my thought and the way his breathing shallows I know he wouldn't be far behind. "Come for me."
It's the only coaxing I need before I'm falling over the edge in the most powerful orgasm I've had yet. My eyes slam shut and I still see stars behind my lids. My once constant rhythm as faltered and Peeta is using his hands to guide me. It only takes a few more seconds and I feel Peeta still beneath me and explode. The nose he makes can only be classified as some kind of roar, and in other circumstances it would have been seen as comical, but in my state it's the most appealing thing ever.
We come down from our high together, my sweaty forehead resting against his as our chests heave against each other's. His hands run down my spine before I shiver, suddenly aware of how cool the night has gotten. Peeta notices and reaches for one of the many blankets in the bed of his truck. He wraps it around us both and I lean into him, our naked sated bodies still very much connected.
"God, you make it impossible to leave," he says against the top of me head.
"Good. My plan is working." I yawn, waiting nothing more than to stay awake with him all night. That had been our plan originally, but now sleep doesn't seem so far off.
"I love you." He kisses the top of my head.
"I love you more."
In a very cliché turn of events, the rooster is what wakes me from my restful sleep. I roll slowly, at first confused about where exactly I am and why I'm covered in a mountain of blankets. And then I feel Peeta's arm around my waist and the bumps and ridges of the bed of his truck beneath me. We slept in the pasture last night. I grin; we did more than sleep in the pasture last night.
"If I can guess what you're thinking about, you have to help me finish packing."
Peeta's voice causes me to open my eyes and I see him turned on his side, his head leaning on his hand. He looks good in any lighting, but I think mid-sunrise lighting is my new favorite. The yellow glow only highlights his blonde hair and causes his blue eyes to appear brighter. The shadows of the leaving night still play around his strong jaw line while the sun outlines his shoulders with almost a heavenly glow. If I didn't love him so much, I'd hate how perfect he always was.
"And if you guess wrong, you can't leave at all." I counter.
"The game doesn't work if you've already decided whatever I say is going to be wrong."
"It's my game. Those are the rules." I smirk sleepily.
"Then we'll just have to play a different game," he says, tugging at the blanket beneath me to pull me closer to him.
I watch Gale throw Johanna's bag in the back of Peeta's truck and my stomach churns. My nerves are getting the best of me, and Gale notices. He gives me a reassuring smile, but my scowl remains. I'm not unsure of my relationship with Peeta; I just loathe the distance that's about to be created. Johanna and Peeta are still inside checking over their rooms for any last minute things, and Peeta's family, minus his mother, are gathered up on the porch waiting to give him a proper send off.
Standing next to Gale near the bed of the truck feels the most comfortable to me because I don't have to pretend I'm excited for Peeta to start another year of school. I don't have to pretend that this is being seen as his breakout season. I can be completely selfish and grumpy. I can cross my arms over my chest and stare into the dirt as I silently try to figure out a way to keep him behind. It is selfish, and I hate that I'm being this way, but love has an ugly side and this is it.
"Haven't seen that look in a while," Gale comments, looking at me with an amused expression.
"Yeah well, I haven't felt like wearing it in awhile," I bite back.
"Easy Catnip." He laughs. "It's college, not war."
He's right and my reasonable side knows it, but right now I don't wish to be reasonable.
I'm about to say something until I hear Peeta's brothers talking animatedly up on the porch and I look up to see Peeta carrying out his bags with a goofy grin on his face. Just seeing him puts me at ease, and I smile for the first time that morning. I walk to the driver's side of the truck and meet Peeta halfway as he tosses his bag to join Johanna's in the bed.
"Hi." He greets me even though it's only been ten minutes since we last saw each other.
Neither one of us wanted to spend a second apart on our last morning together so after we finally managed to tear away from each other in the bed of the truck we got dressed and went back to my place. It was still early and most weren't even out of bed yet. I had made him my sorry excuse for breakfast — mushy oatmeal and burnt toast — and he ate every last bite without complaining. He then tugged me with him to the shower where we spent far too long before finally heading back to the main house to finish up packing. Since then my mood had gone nowhere but south.
"Hi." I attempt a smile, but it's hard.
He doesn't say anything, just pulls me to him as he walks us to stand with the rest of the group that has now gathered at the front of his truck. The conversations flow easily back and forth, and for a moment I'm removed from the fact that Peeta and Johanna are leaving. I'm actually more interested in the fact that Gale and Peeta are holding a conversation — and no one is forcing them.
"Alright, you guys need to get on the road if you're going to hit Tennessee before midnight." Mr. Mellark's booming voice stops all other conversation and for the first time I dislike the man.
"You're right," Peeta agrees, releasing me to start his rounds of goodbyes.
I'm left only for a moment to feel the emptiness that I'm afraid will be permanent once he pulls off the property of Mellark Ranch because Johanna wraps her arms around me suddenly. Her grip around me in strong and I have no other option but to hug her back.
"I'm actually going to miss you," Johanna says candidly.
"Well I'm actually going to miss you too," I respond, actually feeling that it's the truth.
"And don't worry, the skanks won't be coming near him as long as I'm around," Johanna continues. "Not that Peeta would even notice them when they do."
I know she's trying to comfort me, but it doesn't work. Instead of saying anything, I turn to watch Peeta say goodbye to his brothers and finally his father. Their interaction warms my heart. The man holds the back of his son's neck affectionately and pulls him close to tell him things. They stand like that for a good five minutes before Mr. Mellark kisses the top of Peeta's head and pulls him into a strong hug. It feels like too intimate of a moment to watch, but it warms me so that I can't pull away.
Finally Peeta is back in my arms, and I don't care who sees as I pull his lips to mine. The catcalls and whistles from his brothers are all hazed away as I pour every last ounce of emotion into this kiss. This behavior is beyond foreign to me, but it doesn't at all feel wrong. It's like I now completely understand what all the sonnets, songs, books, and movies have been talking about.
And it's fucking perfect.
"Don't miss me too much," he mumbles, resting his forehead against mine.
"Too late," I say, rubbing his cheek with my hand before I pull away.
Fortunately when I look around most aren't paying attention and I haven't embarrassed myself too much. Johanna and Gale are in a similar embrace and I look away quickly. I don't need to lose Peeta and burn my retinas in the same day.
"Come on, Jo!" Peeta calls, breaking the two up.
Johanna heads to the passenger side of the truck ,and Gale walks over to Peeta and sticks his hand out. Peeta takes it and shakes it strongly. The grin on my face nearly takes over.
"Good luck this season," Gale says honestly.
"Thanks, man." Peeta nods.
When they drop hands, Peeta walks over and gives me one last kiss before climbing into the cab of the truck. The engine roars to life and before I know it, they're heading down the long driveway leaving Gale and I to watch their dust settle.
Gale wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. "This is going to be one long fall."
I hate how right he is.