Someone to Love(75)

Kenny gasps and scratches at the back of my neck just enough to let me know it’s driving her insane.

My hand slides up her dress and between her thighs.

A dark laugh rumbles from me.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” I whisper, already out of breath.

Kenny doesn’t say a word. She simply unzips my pants, dips her hand into my boxers, and my dick extends like it’s ready for a handshake, more than happy to greet her.

Kenny’s teeth shine in the dark. “Number seven on the revised syllabus clearly stipulates a carnal act in a public establishment is required to pass your class.” She offers a sarcastic sigh before lifting her dress and slipping me into her, hot and wet. A groan gets buried in my chest. “And I do plan on passing your class, Professor Elton.” Kenny hikes her legs around my waist, and I catch her by the thighs.

Kenny runs her fingers through my hair, and I push in deep until she gives a small cry. She digs her nails into my back as I plunge in over and over with a primal ferocity.

There’s a trans-species language reverberating between the two of us—one that resonates in a palace as easily as a zoo—and apparently the corridor of a hundred-dollar-a-plate restaurant as well.

We’re drinking down the juice of our lust, satisfying the hunger of our flesh as we engage in the power exchange of a lifetime. But I’d give it all to Kenny willingly, kiss the ground she walks on just to be in her presence.

Her head dips back, and the arch of her neck rises and falls in front of me. I watch captivated as she glows, riding high, crashing over me like a wave. Our movements hit a fevered pitch. I bury a kiss in her cleavage and tremble into her as I detonate with all of my love. Her legs begin to slip, and I hoist her over my hips with a husky laugh.

Kenny bites down a smile, her eyes clouded over with lust. I slip my fingers in the beautiful warm slick between her thighs, pleasuring Kenny until her breathing becomes labored—until her face ignites with ecstasy. Kenny writhes in my arms, and I welcome it—running my lips over the landscape of her features.

“Cruise…” She pants into my neck. “You didn’t wear a hat,” she whimpers.

I give a little laugh and peel a heated kiss off her lips.

“You’re so fucking cute.”





Over the weekend, Kenny doesn’t get out of bed. She spends time in the bathroom retching, and I seriously entertain the fact that maybe the waitress I shut down poisoned her food.

Molly said she’d handle things with Mom after I told her Kenny wasn’t feeling well. It’s kind of nice having both Mom and Molly know who Kenny is—to have seen her. All those girls that comprised my life before—it was as if they were phantoms—an entire invisible parade of entities that evaporated like smoke once I was through with them. It’s horrific knowing there were so many, and the fact I don’t remember most of them doesn’t sit well with me either. Some nights there was enough alcohol in my system to ensure I forgot who I was in the process. And right now, I wish they wouldn’t remember me. I wish every one of them would forget me and every intimate act I may have carried out with their bodies. That waitress had me rattled. For a split second, I wondered if I had her, if she were simply trying to come back for more. That’s the unwanted gift I’ve accidently given Kenny. Every girl she sees will be a possibility—someone who had slept with her husband.

Husband.

I keep trying it on for size.

I’m going to ask Kenny to marry me. She’ll probably want a long engagement—that is if she says yes. Maybe after she graduates we’ll make it official. But I’m okay with right now if she wanted. I’d crawl down the aisle on all fours if she asked just to have her next to me until I’m no longer breathing.

Kenny bolts from the bathroom and flops on the bed. I slide up next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Her hair is tangled, and the sharp smell of mouthwash plumes in the air.

“That’s the third time you threw up today.” I run my fingers through her hair, soft as not to hurt her.

“You keeping score?” She burrows her face in the pillow and moans like an injured dove.

“Yes, I’m keeping score. Three strikes—you’re out. Come on.” I pull her up and throw a coat over her shoulders. “I’m taking you to see a doctor.”





The only financial perk of being a student at Garrison is the fact they make sure your ass is covered with a solid-gold insurance policy.

The medical facility is stark in nature. A few people sit in the waiting area, each a good couple feet away from one another in an effort to avoid brewing a microcosm of germs in the unaired room.