Someone to Love(61)

She chokes out another moan. “No.” She breaks the word in two equal parts, so I slow it down even further, pulling in and out lethargically as if I were back to teasing the both of us.

“Aw fuck, Kenny.” I groan, losing all control. I bear down in an all-out assault and slam into her, unleashing my fury. “I’m going to come.” I heave out the words, and my body trembles over her as I bury myself inside her, as deep as her body allows.

Kenny digs her nails into my back and holds me there with the strength of a lioness. She doesn’t have to worry. I don’t plan on moving. There isn’t any other place on the planet I’d rather be. Kenny is a drug, and I’ve just had the best hit of my life. I’m not losing this addiction. I’m in, all the way, pledging my voluntarily servitude to the gateway of my desire. Kenny was the freedom I was longing for. Love and all this wild pent up desire, proved to be the combination that set me free. But only Kenny had the power to unleash me. She scrubbed the impurity from my life and washed clean the world, so I could see it stark and clear for the very first time. Kenny perfumed my existence with her regal charm, her sovereign splendor. Kenny is in everyway sublime.

I glance down at our bodies locked together, her smooth legs relaxing over mine. It’s as if the floodgates to paradise have opened, and I want to run and explore everything with her by my side. She washed the tragic coating off this last year and painted it new with her body. She brought music to where there was only noise—color to a black and white world.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice hums low and secretive as she tries to catch her breath. Kenny runs her fingers through my hair like strumming a guitar.

“You,” I confess. “About how incredible you are.” I peel a kiss from her lips.

“Did I do okay?” she asks, unsure, and I drink down her wide-eyed innocence.

“You did better than okay. I’d say that’s an A plus, plus performance.” I rumble a dry laugh over her as my body rouses from its temporary slumber. I’m growing again, this time inside of her. Kenny sucks in a breath and closes her eyes. “God, you’re so beautiful. I love you so damn much it hurts.”

“I love you, too.” A smile glides up her cheek. “Don’t let it hurt. Let it linger like a kiss that never ends.”

“Like a kiss.” I press my lips to hers. I never want anything I share with Kenny to end.

My hips grind over hers.

This time I try to make it last for the both of us.





13


Kendall

Afterglow





In the morning, after our first incredible night together, Cruise sleeps silently next to me as I get up gingerly to use the bathroom. I watch his back rise and fall as the newborn sun adheres her pale light to the curve of his skin, jealous to have him.

I scoot off the bed and take a few careful steps.

Oh. My. God.

Shit, shit, shit!

FIRE!

There’s a freaking fire in my vagina—as if somehow my soft, silky flesh was replaced with live coals, and I find it very fucking hard to convince my body to take the very next step.

I try not to whimper out loud as I scuttle to the bathroom.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” I mouth the words as I close the bathroom door.

What the hell was that? Did he perform exploratory surgery while I was freaking sleeping?

I snatch my compact off the counter and slide the mirror in places where mirrors and, therefore, glass should never venture.

It looks normal enough. I mean, it doesn’t look mutilated—I’m not bleeding or anything.

Crap. I must have done something wrong. There must have been some step I missed, like prepping my insides with barbed wire in the event he decides to draw his unholy weapon. Obviously, other girls are privy to the tricks of the trade because if anyone else felt like this the morning after, all coital options would be swiftly taken off the table. The entire human race would have died out long ago if women’s asses reaped the benefits of a forest fire each time they had sex.

For a second, I contemplate calling Lauren or Ally and confirming my theory because clearly I did not get the fucking memo on how exceptionally horrific intercourse could be. Surely, there’s got to be some quick fix—emphasis on the quick. Obviously, Cruise is expecting more of the same and more than likely in just a few minutes.

I made the decision last night I wouldn’t be going to math later. It’s my only class today, and it’s so not worth ruining all this good mojo between Cruise and me. The I love yous alone warrant me to abort the entire spring semester.

I need to find a cure for said ring of fire before he decides he wants to dip back into cupid’s cupboard and discovers an inhospitable environment.