Someone to Love(30)
“Neither do you.” She runs her fingers over my shoulder, soft and unsure.
I gently take up her hand and run it down my chest, never breaking our gaze. Kenny interlaces our fingers. She closes her eyes as I pull her lower, inch by inch, until we crest the hard ridge in my pants and she gives a soft moan. Her hand escapes mine, and she cups me over my jeans. Dear lord, yes. She lets her fingers glide over me soft and achingly sweet. I glide my hands under her sweater, and I slip them over her breasts, feel the lace of her bra, and trace out her hard nipples underneath.
Kenny pulls me in and crashes her lips over mine. Her mouth is ripe with the taste of strawberries as she delivers her sweet, juicy kisses. Her tongue strokes over mine, slow and easy, as if we had already logged a decade of doing exactly this. I could spend an eternity holding Kenny with her lips, her body welded to mine. Her cool hands slip into the back of my jeans and dip into my boxers. Kenny relaxes her fingers over me and gives a gentle squeeze. It takes everything in me not to move her hand around to the front, introduce her to the physical part of me that craves her most. Her bra unhooks beneath my fingers, and I move my heated hands over her bare stomach until I feel her quiver beneath me. I glance down at her beautiful face. Her lids are closed and she licks her lips in anticipation as I cup her breasts full with both hands.
Kenny takes in a sharp breath and bucks beneath me. Her lids flutter with ecstasy as if this simple act of loving her made her dizzy.
I lay my lips over hers as we indulge in a spastic war of limbs. Kenny tastes and feels as if she were made just for me.
Kenny is stabbing at my heart with her being—molding herself over my existence.
Something amazing is happening—something meaningful and real.
Monday afternoon, Cal and I run side by side on the treadmill in the overcrowded equipment room. Every person on the planet has meandered into the gym today, trying to work off that extra slice of holiday pie. A couple of girls across from us have all but resorted to smoke signals to let us know they’re interested, and for the first time in a long while, there isn’t anything in me that’s up for a hot and sweaty quickie at the gym. Now, if it were Kenny initiating the offer, I’d take her right here in the middle of the room, with an audience, if she wanted.
“Kenny thinks ‘touch’ should act as an extended lesson.” I marvel at my dumb luck. “But for whatever reason, she’s still hell bent on continuing with her experiment,” I say out of breath, trying not to shout too loud should the girls across the way be moved to eavesdrop. I wouldn’t put it past Blair to set her eyes and ears in my midst.
“Touch, huh? Maybe she could give some pointers to Lauren. Can you believe she thinks I was cheating on her New Year’s Eve?”
“You tell her you were with me?” I flinch at the thought. After I saw Kenny surrounded like a pageant queen on parade, I hauled ass outside for a pity party and ended up confessing to Cal that I had more than a few feelings rolling around for Kenny—that surprisingly, they weren’t solely tied to my balls’ incessant urge to release some pressure. I used the ‘L’ word for the first time in a good long while, out loud, and not even my own ears could fucking believe it—still not sure I do.
“Yeah, I told her I was with you.” He catches the worried look on my face. “Relax, I didn’t rattle off any of that bullshit you were shoveling.” He wipes down his forehead with the towel draped around his neck. “I thought you swore off love and traded it in for, I believe the quote was, ‘quick and dirty ass.’”
I try to shake the accuracy of his words out of my head. “I thought so, too. Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who’s disappointed in me.” I don’t tell him that I saw Blair at Ackerman House—that she wanted to talk, that I essentially blew her off and fused my lips to Kenny instead. I don’t want to drag Blair into every conversation. I want her and the ghost of who we were, hidden in the back of the closet. I wish I could burn it down, torch every memory we ever made. And now, here she is, showing up just when things are shaping up in my life. Figures. She probably doesn’t feel she did enough damage the first time around.
I drain the rest of my water and end up spilling the reserve down my chest.
“Watch the equipment, buddy. That’s a three thousand dollar machine you’re desecrating. You think getting your heart ripped out of your ass hurt like hell, wait until I come after you for restitution. How’s the bed and breakfast going? Business mistreating you much these days?”
A groan escapes my throat at the mere mention of that money pit. “I handed the reins back to my mom last summer when I ditched my sanity. I should swing by and glance at the books.”