Someone to Love(11)

My insides bisect with heat at the thought of a future with Cruise that could string out into the unknowable future, spending Christmas after Christmas with his heart-stopping smile.

“Kenny…” His minty breath rakes across my cheek like a fire. “You mind if I kiss you?”

I shake my head, looking a little more than overeager in the process.

“It’s Christmas.” A smile slides into his cheek. “And it’s snowing. I think your first real kiss should be memorable.” He washes his eyes over me with heartfelt affection. “I want to make everything we share memorable for you.”

Good God he’s going to take me right here in the snow. I’m going to lose my virginity on God’s birthday in front of unsuspecting church folk. In just a few minutes, those children running wild will be screaming for another reason entirely.

“Merry Christmas, Cruise.” I pant out of breath like I’ve just sprinted for miles.

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in. I can hardly look at him. Cruise is far too gorgeous for me to ever comprehend.

“Merry Christmas, Kenny.” His dimples dig in. “Thank you for my gift.”

“What gift?”

“This.” He closes his eyes and sweeps his feather-soft lips over mine before indulging in something deeper—something that feels so alarmingly holy and right it makes my insides implode with pleasure. I give an involuntary groan as his tongue flicks over mine, flirting, caressing. The exquisite exchange goes on for miles.

We kiss for hours, weeks—decades as the snow piles up around us. It tries to cool the inferno we’ve lit, but it’s impotent with its efforts.

We’re building a memory that can last a lifetime—two lifetimes. It’s bliss like this with Cruise.

This is a Christmas wish come true.

One I didn’t even know I wanted.





Cruise



Kenny and I leave the tree lot, one bushy evergreen richer, and enjoy the ride home, still hopped up on that lip-lock we shared. I’ve kissed my fair share of girls. I’ve logged some mileage with these lips, and swear to God have never experienced an out of body experience like the one Kenny just provided. Maybe it had to do with the fact I’m aroused as hell at the thought of touching a virgin, guiding her down some dark carnal path, but whatever it was, it sealed itself in my memory as a holy shit moment.

We arrive at the house and I pull backward into the driveway, trying to ignore the fact I just took out the border garden my mother planted last spring. In my defense, a blanket of snow dusted the ground in the time it took to get to the tree lot and back. Parking in reverse was never my forte, although I’d never confess to being anything short of an ace behind the wheel.

I glance over at Kenny with her hair slightly wet from the snow, the skin on her chest quivering, and the breath escapes my lungs like it were a building on fire.

Damn she’s hot. I blink a quick smile and pat her on the knee like some perverted uncle.

“Let’s do this,” I say.

Kenny helps me drag down the furry monster that once stood proud as a card-carrying member of the forest and is now reduced to living room décor for all of one night. But I don’t mind. I can’t remember the last time I had a tree with the exception of living in the bed and breakfast with Mom and Molly.

“It smells so good!” She inhales deeply as her lids flutter. She looks as if she’s about to have an enriched sexual experience, and with me a good ten feet away, missing out on all the fun.

“Sure does. God’s perfume,” I say, dragging it into the house and leaning it against the wall farthest from the fireplace. No use in burning down our love shack before giving it the proper conjugal usage.

I step back and lose myself just staring at Kenny.

“What?” She bites down on her lip, and her hip juts out like she’s making me an offer. For a girl who claims to never have had more than one drunken kiss, Kenny sure knows how to bring the heat without trying. And what the hell am I saying, conjugal usage? Kenny isn’t one of the tramps I pick up on my nightly panty raids down on sorority row. I’m pretty sure this is one fountain of youth and beauty I won’t be tapping anytime soon. The nice guy in me won’t allow it. I’d like to take that part of me out back and knock the shit out of him with a shovel—bury him in the process for morphing into a bleeding heart without my permission.

Kenny comes in close with those pale, sky-washed eyes, and I have a hard time catching my breath.

“Boy, you’re quiet,” she whispers.

“Just enjoying the view.” God’s honest truth right there. Kenny is a goddess who should be admired by the entire human race. “So what are we going to do with this thing?” I dig a smile in the side of my cheek and try to pull her in the way I do with other girls. But for her, my heart skips a beat, and I’m not sure I like what this means—not sure I’ve ever felt this before.