Free Novel Read

Forever With You (Silver State Series) Page 12


  “I’m in,” I agree.

  “And I’m okay,” she says. I can’t tell from her tone whether she’s trying to convince herself, or if she really means it.

  “You want me to keep going?” I ask, my body begging for her to say yes.

  “Yes.”

  I flash her one more smile, then lean down to kiss her forehead. I pull back, then push in again, careful to maintain a slow pace. Again. Again. I study Tawny’s face – she winces a little each time I push in, but she doesn’t ask me to stop. After a minute she raises her head and looks down, watching as I move into her.

  “Do you wanna go faster?” she asks me quietly, lifting her eyes to look at me again.

  “This isn’t about me,” I say. “It’s all about you.”

  “I want it to feel good for you,” she says. “I want you to go faster…just a little bit.”

  “It already feels good to me,” I tell her, but I do as she asks – I speed up. I rock into her, finding my rhythm. It’s still slower than I’m used to, but even so it feels ten times better than it typically does.

  Tawny grabs my ass and pulls me to her, goading me to move faster. I can feel her clamping down around me, but I can also tell she’s putting forth extraordinary effort to force the troubled expression from her eyes.

  “Fuck, Tawny, this has to be hurting you,” I say, smoothing her hair off her forehead. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

  She shakes her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she says quietly. “Just keep going.”

  Tawny

  It’s true it doesn’t hurt – it’s just uncomfortable is all. When I’ve pictured having sex with Kyle, my imagination has tended to lead me in the direction of tantric, Cosmo-worthy positions – bending myself into a pretzel while Kyle penetrates me from behind being just one possible scenario. It occurs to me this may be a tad ambitious for my first time. Still, if I can make it through this, I have no doubt it will be better the next time.

  Kyle increases his tempo again, just slightly. He’s covered with a sheen of sweat – suddenly I feel guilty for making him do all the work. “Kyle,” I say, pressing against his chest until he grinds to a halt.

  He looks at me anxiously. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  “No,” I say. “I just wondered… Will you let me be on top?”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I reply. He pulls out and smoothly switches places with me, then positions me on top of him. I feel so exposed up here; it hadn’t really fully occurred to me until just now that we’re in a public place, for all the world to see. Thankfully the barn keeps us hidden from passersby out on the road.

  I rise up on my knees and take Kyle’s cock in my hand, guiding it back to my center. “Hold on,” he says. He lets some saliva pool in his fingers, then slides them over my opening. I shiver from the tingly feeling I get when he touches me.

  Kyle groans as I lower myself around him. He watches as I slide over him, concealing his full length inside of me. I’m tempted to ask what I should do next, but I bite my tongue – as if he needs another reminder of how inexperienced I am at all this. So instead, I let my body feel the way ahead. I lift up again, repeating the same movements – lift and lower, lift and lower – until I reach a steady pace. Kyle gazes up at me, his hands wrapped around my waist as he gently pushes and pulls against me.

  A minute later he sits up, shifting us so he’s penetrating me at a different angle. He wraps his legs around behind me while I continue the same motions – and something amazing happens. It begins to feel…good. At first it’s just a faint glimmer of something entirely detached from the discomfort I’ve experienced since we began, but a moment later it blossoms into something else altogether. I throw my head back in abandon, determined to hold on to this feeling.

  Kyle

  I’m about to blow, any second. My entire body quakes from exertion as I put herculean effort into fighting off my orgasm. Tawny actually seems to be enjoying herself now, and watching her feel her way through, discovering what feels good to her, is enough to drive me over the edge. At the same time, I don’t want to come before she’s had a chance to finish exploring. Ideally I want to time my release to coincide with hers, but since I’ve never had sex with a virgin before I have no idea what the chances are she’ll actually come her first time.

  “I’m gonna come soon, Tawny,” I tell her.

  “I want you to,” she says. She reaches up and gathers her hair on top of her head with both hands, bowing toward me – oh God, that’s it. She looks fucking beautiful as hell with her back arched like that and her arms raised, lengthening her body while her tits bounce with every rise and fall. It’s my undoing.

  “Fuuuuck.” I bury my head in her chest as I contract and let loose inside her.

  Tawny – 4:15 PM

  The exhilaration I feel as I watch Kyle orgasm at my behest is truly incomparable. My muscles involuntarily clench in response to his display of ecstasy, and suddenly Kyle howls softly, as if he’s in pain. He grips my shoulders to lift me off of him, and I crouch beside him, fearful I’ve done something to hurt him. Seeing the worried expression on my face, he brushes my hair off my forehead and plants a kiss over my eyebrow, then on my lips. When he draws back he’s chuckling.

  “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he explains. “It’s just super sensitive, and you’re really tight – that’s all.”

  Relieved, I draw my knees up to my chest and cross my ankles, clasping my hands around my shins. I watch as Kyle rolls the condom off and lays it to the side, then uses one of his socks to mop up the remaining mess.

  I want to ask how it felt, whether I was any good, but I’m afraid of the answer I’ll get. It isn’t easy comparing myself with the other faceless girls Kyle has most assuredly slept with, all of whom are likely to have been far more skillful than I am. I force the thought from my mind, redoubling my effort to focus on the here and now.

  Evidently Kyle has deemed himself sufficiently clean – he’s pulling his boxers back on – but his eyes are on me. He seems intent on watching me as I scoot back into my own underwear, but intercepts me before I can pick up my dress. He laces his fingers with mine and gives my hands a squeeze, then leans in to kiss a line from my collarbone up to my lips. “You were amazing, just like I thought you’d be,” he whispers in response to my unasked question. “Don’t even think for a second you weren’t.”

  4:30 PM

  We’re fully clothed and headed back to Reno. I watch Kyle with interest as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, occasionally looking over and beaming at me. He seems to be in an indomitably good mood, and this realization does my heart good.

  It’s as if my mind is determined to outweigh the lightness of my heart, though. Soon enough the wheels in my brain begin to turn, and doubt comes creeping back in. I shift and gaze out at the passing desert, suddenly feeling conflicted.

  Harumi had made everything seem so clear and so simple – but it isn’t simple. Forget the fact I was a virgin until today. The trouble is, I actually like Kyle. I’ve known that for a while – so what possessed me to think just sex could ever be enough for me? I mean, let’s face it – in truth I’m nothing more than a pathetic, hopeless romantic, and try as I may, I’m having trouble separating my feelings for Kyle from the fact I just shared all of myself with him, in a way I never have with anyone before him. This changed things for me; it elevated my perception of our relationship to new, insurmountable heights. Not good.

  I sigh in spite of myself. Just sex, I remind myself. Just sex. I just need to change my mindset, that’s all – I can’t get my hopes up. The fact remains, having any part of Kyle is better than having none of him…right? So I’ll suppress these feelings and try my hardest to embody the disinterest of a casual lover, ignoring the fact it’s so much more.

  Chapter 13 – Feel It All

  Friday, September 9

&nbs
p; Tawny – 3:45 PM

  “All right, that’s it for today. Have a nice weekend, and don’t forget your first drafts are due a week from today.” Sanjay, our graduate TA, turns his back to the classroom and begins erasing the whiteboard as the lecture hall fills with the sounds of chairs scraping and bags zipping.

  Aiden and I walk outside together, as has become our custom over the past week. The sun is warm, but a breeze has picked up. I zip my windbreaker against the chill as we push out the doors that empty onto the quad.

  “Do you think you’ll go to dinner tonight?” asks Aiden. I look at him, trying to piece together what he could be referring to. I vaguely recall Milly mentioning something about a group from our class going out for dinner this evening, but I was too distracted at the time to absorb the details.

  “Umm…yeah, maybe. Where did she say it is again?”

  “Kildare’s. Six forty-five. So you think you can make it?”

  “Probably,” I say with a shrug as we approach the corner where Aiden and I normally go our separate ways.

  “Okay, hopefully see ya there then,” he says, throwing me a friendly smile before turning to head east in the direction of his apartment building.

  I take my time walking back to Argenta. I pull out my phone to turn the volume back up, and I’m a bit sad when I see there aren’t any text messages waiting for me. Kyle and I have kept in touch on and off this week via text – he’s called me a few times, but I’m ashamed to say I’ve been screening his calls, preferring to rely on more detached methods of communication. I’ve thrown out a couple of semi-cogent excuses for never being able to answer the phone, but I fear Kyle’s interest is waning, since the number of messages he’s left me has dwindled markedly since sometime yesterday. I know I should call him, but I’ve legitimately needed my space to sift through the thoughts rattling around my brain. Putting some distance between us has been my primary goal this week.

  When I get back to my room, I can hear water running in the bathroom, indicating Beatrix is in the shower. Harumi is gone, of course, because she has a class that runs late on Friday afternoons. I drop my backpack and iPod on my bed, then lie down and face the wall, thankful for the few minutes of solitude.

  It isn’t until later I realize I must have fallen asleep; my arm is numb from lying on it, and there’s a small wet spot on my pillow where I’ve drooled. I blink a few times as I try to regain my bearings. The lights are out, and the room is quiet. I twist around to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand, and I’m shocked when I see it’s already 6:30 – that means I slept for over two hours! And it’s already time to start walking to dinner.

  I roll off the bed and rise slowly to keep from feeling faint. I glance down at my jeans and four-button crewneck t-shirt, then at my closet, considering whether I should change clothes. Ultimately I decide against it. It isn’t as if I’m trying to impress anyone.

  Pushing my shirtsleeves up to my elbows, I walk into the bathroom and flip on the lights over the sink. I let my hair down out of its ponytail and comb my fingers through it, then twirl it into a bun, securing it at the nape of my neck with a few hairpins. Finally I stuff my feet into a pair of Birkenstock clogs and shrug back into my red windbreaker.

  I trudge along North Virginia toward Kildare’s, a restaurant that serves Irish pub fare and features live music on Friday and Saturday nights. When I get there seven of my classmates, including Milly and Aiden, are already huddled around a large rectangular table in the back, while a man with a long beard strums an acoustic guitar at the front of the restaurant. Aiden’s face lights up when he sees me; he stands and begins scooting chairs around to make space for me along the back wall. I drop into my seat, still feeling groggy from my late nap. A waitress brings me a menu and begins taking orders from the rest of the group.

  While the others carry on a conversation about the spring semester trip to Istanbul, Aiden leans closer to me. He rests one arm on the table and places his other hand behind me on the back of my chair. “So what are you doing this weekend?” he asks.

  “I have a lot of homework,” I say, heaving a tired sigh. “I need to go to the library and work on our project – I feel like I’m behind.”

  He nods. “What besides homework? You have to do something fun.”

  I shrug. “No plans.”

  “There’s a magic show at one of the casinos on Sunday – a buddy of mine got some extra tickets. Why don’t you come?”

  I smile. Aiden really is nice, and attractive, and interesting. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in Kyle at the moment I’d probably have a crush on him. Unfortunately – and maybe it’s just my present dazed state of mind – when I think of going on a date with Aiden, it just makes me feel tired. On the other hand, it’d probably be a good idea to get out and socialize with someone other than the person I seem to be so helplessly obsessed with.

  “Would it be all right if I let you know a little later? Let me see how much work I can get done tomorrow.” A copout, perhaps, but at least it will buy me some time.

  “Of course,” he says. He leans back with a triumphant grin, as if he’s already won. It’s nice to be able to make someone that happy just by saying “maybe.”

  I haven’t had much of an appetite, and I’m dismayed to find even the aroma that wafts from my shepherd’s pie isn’t enough to evoke my hunger. I spend the meal pushing my food around my bowl and nibbling on soda bread while interacting with my classmates to the best of my ability. Aiden seems to notice something is up – he keeps darting me questioning glances – but he doesn’t say anything.

  Our plates have just been cleared and the waitress is distributing our checks when my phone begins to vibrate. My heart leaps into my throat when I look down and notice it’s Kyle calling. Quickly I stand up and scoot past the others seated around me, making an excuse about needing to use the restroom. I slip out the side entrance by the bar and tap on Answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey! Wow, you actually answered your phone this time.”

  I offer a feeble laugh. “Yeah, whaddya know?”

  “What are you up to tonight?”

  “Just having dinner with some friends,” I reply, twisting a stray lock of hair that’s fallen loose from my bun around my finger and giving it a firm tug – it’s an old nervous habit of mine I’ve been desperate to break. I’d been pretty successful for the past several months – that is until Kyle came back into my life.

  “What are you doing after that?” he prods.

  Until a moment ago I’d been thinking of walking back to my dorm and going straight to bed, but now energy hums through me at high frequency, heightening my senses and causing me to feel hyper vigilant.

  “I guess I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” I answer.

  “Come over,” he says.

  I chew on my lip, pretending to think it over. Is this considered a booty call? I wonder. Not that it matters much – truthfully my mind was made up the second the words crossed Kyle’s lips. An idea dawns on me, however – a way to do things on my own terms.

  “I can’t come over tonight,” I tell him, “but you can come to my room and hang out.”

  Kyle – 8:30 PM

  I have no idea why Tawny would want to hang out in her dorm room instead of coming to my place, but I’m not in a position to argue with her. She meets me at the front entrance to let me in, and she’s definitely a sight for sore eyes. Looking at her now, it’s hard to believe it was just four days ago that I saw her – it seems more like a month. I’ve spent days poring over every photo I took last Monday, consistently in awe of how good she looks in almost every shot. The process of weeding out which four or five to add to my portfolio was nothing short of grueling.

  I told myself earlier when I called, if she didn’t answer this time I wasn’t going to try again for a while – no sense hounding her. When she picked up it felt like a two ton weight lifted off my chest. I mean, I took her virginity, for Christ’s sake. I’ve lived this entire week te
rrified she might be having major regrets and was too afraid to face me.

  I follow her to the bank of elevators, and we ride silently up to the sixth floor, two floors above where I lived last year. Tawny has propped her spring-loaded door open with a tennis shoe; she pushes it open to reveal a tidy room with a pretty nice view of campus. I’m relieved to find we’re alone.

  Tawny goes over to a desk on the right side of the room and pulls a chain to switch on the lamp, filling the room with a dim, warm light. My eyes flick involuntarily to the bed that must be hers – it’s covered in a navy blue comforter that’s patterned with little white flowers. I hate myself for the fact my mind flashes immediately to the thought of us having sex in that narrow space; I have to remind myself I didn’t come here with any ulterior motives.

  Tawny glances up at me questioningly, and I suddenly realize I haven’t budged from the entrance to the room since the door swung shut behind me. Slowly I walk toward her, attempting to read her expression and her body language as I approach her. Her eyes lock on mine and she seems to freeze, her body taut as she holds my gaze.

  “Do you want anything to drink?” she asks when I’m within a few feet of her. Her voice comes out sort of funny and strangled, like the back of her throat has something stuck in it.

  “What do you have?” I ask.

  She goes to the mini fridge beneath the lofted bed near the door and crouches down to inspect its contents. “There’s Dr. Pepper?” she says.

  “That sounds good,” I reply. She pops one open and hands it to me; our fingers touch as I curve my hand around the cold can, and Tawny flashes me a crooked smile as she withdraws her reach. I take a sip from the can, savoring the feel of the microscopic bubbles sliding down the back of my throat on the current of cold liquid. When I lower the can Tawny is still watching me; she licks her lips, and suddenly I’m affected with the need to feel my hands on her. I set my drink on the desk and take a step closer, every nerve fiber on high alert for any sign of discomfort on Tawny’s part. Instead of tensing up, though, she seems to incrementally relax as I lower my head to push my lips against her slightly open mouth.