Instead of You(33)

     



 

The living room, dining room, and kitchen could all be seen from the doorway, and all three rooms were tidy and clean. The furniture was used but nice looking, it all matched, and there was that same feeling of adultness. I turned to him.

"You're like a real-life grown-up."

He shrugged and gave a shy smile, shutting the door behind him, and turning the lock. He took my hand again as he walked past me, taking me on a grand tour.

"This is the living room, dining room, and kitchen, although I'm not sure how stocked the fridge is, so don't yell at me if I'm out of everything. We'll probably have to go out for breakfast tomorrow." He led me down the short hallway, motioning to the first door on the right. "This is David's room. He's staying with Kristen tonight, so we probably won't see him again before we go back."

He let the words hang in the air and I immediately grabbed hold of them, turning them around in my mind and realizing what he was saying: we were alone for the night.

"Oh," was my incredibly adult response.

His hand squeezed mine, but then he tugged gently and led me to the next door, opening it, and again motioning me in before him. When I walked through the door I knew I was entering Hayes's room immediately because the smell of him moved over me. It was his own scent, nothing I'd ever smelled before, something dark and spicy, but not heavy. Just Hayes. The light came on and I took my time looking around, taking in this new Hayes's room.

There was a desk in the corner that looked a little cluttered, but only because it appeared to be frequently used. There was a bookshelf that held what looked like a mix of textbooks and also books he might read for pleasure in his spare time. There was a closet I imagined you could just barely walk into and turn in a circle, and another door that I could see led to a bathroom.

And then there was his bed.

His headboard was made of wooden slats and they stretched horizontally along the entire king-sized frame. It was a dark mahogany color with a solid footboard that matched. He had a dark gray blanket with the fluffiest pillows I'd ever seen. It looked manly and comfortable all at the same time. I wanted to climb atop it and snuggle down, but I also knew I would have a hard time sleeping a wink in Hayes's bed.

He pressed his body into mine-his front against my back-and rested his chin on my shoulder, his hands on my waist. His words were whispered next to my ear, the breath of them caressing me and making the hairs on my arm stand on end and the swallows in my stomach take flight.

"We don't have to both sleep in my bed, Kenz. I can sleep in David's room if you're uncomfortable. There's no rush or expectation here."

His offer, to sleep away from me, made my heart hurt. The very last thing I wanted was to be apart from him, especially during this one night where we had, what seemed like, a finite amount of time to pretend like we were carefree, like we were normal. I was definitely some messed-up version of Cinderella, and sooner or later, my coach was going to turn back into a pumpkin.

I turned slowly in his arms, my hands automatically coming to his chest, and I looked up at him.

"I would be uncomfortable if you were anywhere but next to me."

He leaned down and I was expecting a kiss, but his mouth went directly to where my neck met my shoulder and he breathed me in. It was a tender moment, a moment in which I felt as though he was treasuring me, committing the two of us together in his room to memory. A moment in which, possibly, he was memorizing what it was like to hold me because he was afraid one day he wouldn't be able to. Or maybe it was me who was doing that.

He walked me backward slowly until the back of my thighs ran into the mattress. He pulled his mouth from me, only to bring his hands to my face, eyes peering into mine.

"You're in charge, Kenzie. We'll take this as far as you want to go. You tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't want you to stop," I whispered, pressing up on my toes to capture his mouth. He groaned against my lips as soon as our mouths met, and I reached down to pull his shirt over his head. I didn't necessarily want the experience to happen quickly, but I did want to feel his skin pressed against mine as soon as possible. He apparently shared my view on the matter because my shirt was being lifted over my head next. My skirt was pulled down my legs, his pants were kicked off his feet, and we were tumbling together onto his monstrous bed. He was kissing me and I was scooting back, trying to reach the head of the bed, when I suddenly started laughing.

"Your bed is enormous." I finally gave up and flopped down right where I lay. He was leaning over me, hands on either side of my head, holding himself up, gazing down at me. And he was smiling at me as if I were his whole world.         

     



 

"I love you," I blurted out, the words rising up in me like lava, spilling out, sprouting wings and flying away. "I love you more than anything."

His smile softened, almost disappeared, only to be replaced with the most intense expression of love. I knew how much I loved him, could feel it in every cell of my body, but I also realized his love for me went even deeper. No matter how hard I tried, I'd never be able to love him as much as he loved me.

His elbows bent slightly, and his forehead rested against mine as he let out a soft sigh. "I've always loved you," he said, then pressed a kiss to my throat right below my ear. "I love you now." His next kiss landed just below my other ear. My body arched up into his, just the sensation of his lips on me making all my synapses fire. "And I'll love you forever," he said just before his lips met mine.

Oh, God. He was so much better at love than I was.

He kissed me just as his arm wrapped around my waist, picked me up, and pulled me until my head rested against his fluffy pillows. My knees parted and he settled between them, one hand holding him above me, while the other took its time grazing over my bare skin.

I reached around him, my hands splayed wide over his shoulder blades, moving down, my fingers trailing through the valley of his spine, feeling all the contour of the muscles, the map of his body, until I came to his narrow waist. The elastic band of his boxer briefs slipped easily over my fingers as I explored lower. Both of my hands gripped his rear and he reacted by grinding into me.

"Hayes," I panted between kisses. I'd gone from nervous to completely lovesick to downright needy in the span of minutes. I was reeling from all the emotions. He pressed his hardness into me again, the ridge of him grinding into the most sensitive part of me, and I nearly lost my composure at that very moment.

His mouth moved from mine, down my throat, over my collarbone to the swell of my breast. I lifted up, unhooked my bra, and threw it across the room faster than I ever had before. He didn't waste any time either, as his mouth immediately found my breast. I gasped, lost in the sensation, only spurred on when his hand palmed the other. Everything I was feeling I was familiar with, it was just more intense than ever before. The pulsing, the hot and constant throbbing between my legs, the feeling of stretched-tight rubber bands from my nipples to my core, the way my breasts felt hot and heavy. It was the perfect storm of lust.

His mouth moved from my nipple, kissing down the center of my stomach, looking to me for permission when his lips met the top of my underwear. I nodded and rolled my hips toward him, catching a glimpse of a smile as he pulled my underwear down my thighs.

Hayes pulled the last article of clothing off me and I resisted the urge to cover myself, to hide the parts of me no one had seen before, the parts I was most self-conscious about, but the expression on his face was one of awe and adoration. I realized then, Hayes was the very first person to see me that way; laid bare and completely naked in every way.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his eyes moving slowly over the expanse of my pale skin that never got any sunlight, a drastic contrast to the parts of me that were tanned from days on the beach. When his mouth landed just below my belly button, my breath caught in my throat and my whole body shuddered. "I want to do so many things to you, McKenzie. But this has to be slow and gentle. I don't want to hurt you any more than necessary." He moved north a smidge and kissed me again, repeating the pattern until his mouth was back to mine.

When his face was back up to mine, my hand reached out for him.

"You're shaking," he observed, taking my hand in his own and bringing it to his mouth, kissing my fingers. "We don't have to do this."

"I'm not shaking because I don't want to, I'm shaking because I do. So badly. I'm just nervous."

"What are you nervous about?" His question was sincere and soft, his eyes still looking into mine.

"I'm nervous that it will hurt. I'm nervous I won't do it right. I'm nervous you won't like it." The truths were spilling from me, and it felt good to speak them, as though some of the tension was released from my chest and I could breathe a little easier for saying them. "I'm worried we'll do it, and then everything will change between us."

He ran the back of his hand down my cheek, a small smile playing on his face.

"Everything will change, but it will only be good. It's hard to explain, but once you've shared your body with someone, it makes everything better."

I tried not to let the jealousy take over knowing he'd shared his body with someone else. I was both angry and happy he'd been with someone before me. At least one of us knew what we were doing.