Forever With You (Silver State Series) Read online

  Harumi: I’ve also heard that works if your boobs have just eaten something garlicky.

  Harumi: “For a special treat on your next night in, attach an eye-catching circle of rhinestones around your nipples.”

  Beatrix: Definitely wait for a special night. Nothing’s sadder than gluing rhinestones around your nips on a Tuesday.

  Clearly, some of the tips ended up being more informative than others. Still, there were some good takeaway points embedded in all the silliness, a few of which I’ve tucked away for later.

  As Beatrix and Danny shuffle off to study for a history test, Harumi gets up to plug in her computer. “Hey, Tawny?” she says.

  “Yeah?”

  “Text Kyle. You should invite him to dinner.”

  I wonder if Harumi is my very own fairy godmother, sent down from the heavens in the form of a spunky, Japanese American college student. In any case, I fully intend on taking her advice – it seems stupid not to.

  Kyle – 5:30 PM

  Do you have plans this evening?

  I had been walking from the kitchen back to my bedroom when I read the text from Tawny, and I about tripped over my own feet in my eagerness to respond. God, I’m an idiot for not asking her out myself. Why have I been leaving it all up to her?

  Having dinner with you?

  Technically I already have dinner plans with Les, but those will have to change. I switch over to a new screen to fire him a text letting him know we’ll have to postpone. Les is a good guy, he won’t care…especially since I don’t intend on him ever finding I’m blowing him off for a girl.

  I want to try Alonzo’s. I can meet you there at 7, is that OK?

  I love that place. See you then.

  Chapter 9 – Two Truths

  Saturday, August 27

  Tawny – 7:00 PM

  I’m giving myself time to make a final decision, just as Harumi suggested. I’m about ninety-five percent sure I’m not going to let anything happen tonight, for example – at least no sex. And of course I have to remember, I may be getting ahead of myself. Kyle may not even want me in that way, casually or not. I’ll admit it would be quite a blow to my already-fragile ego if that turned out to be the case, but it can’t be discounted regardless.

  I’m already waiting at a table inside Alonzo’s when Kyle walks in looking insanely attractive in a blue-sleeved baseball tee, his signature cargo pants slung low on his hips. His dark stubble has grown out some again since I saw him last, making him appear less boyish and somehow more powerfully masculine.

  He smiles when he sees me and makes a beeline for the table I’ve selected next to the window; his grin turns even brighter when he notices his Redskins cap lying on the table in front of me.

  “You remembered my hat!” he says. “Thank you so much, I’m so glad I didn’t lose it.” He rakes his hair back with his fingers and stuffs the worn cap on his head as if he isn’t sure it will still fit.

  I smile. “It looks good on you.”

  “Thanks,” he says through his million-watt grin. He removes the hat and tosses it down on the bench seat, then asks “Are you ready to try the best calzones in the whole wide world?” He nods his head toward the line that’s formed at the front counter.

  “Absolutely. Lead the way.”

  7:30 PM

  Every calzone is made to order, so it took a while for our food to arrive, but Kyle assured me they’d be worth the wait. I can tell as soon as I sink my teeth in my ham and green pepper he’s right. We spend a couple of minutes just moaning in utter bliss as our taste buds are treated to an assault of incomparable flavor.

  First we exchange small talk about our first week of classes, then end up laughing about the different icebreaker games our professors had us play with our classmates.

  “Ever played ‘Two Truths and a Lie’?” asks Kyle.

  “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t think I’ve played,” I reply.

  He puts down his fork, already mostly finished with his calzone – he eats much faster than I do. “Let’s play,” he says, challenging me with his mischievous grin.

  I laugh nervously. “Really?” I ask.

  “Why not? We may have grown up with each other, but I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

  “Um…okay. Remind me how to play again?”

  “You just list three statements about yourself, but two of them have to be true, and one is something you make up. Then I have to guess which one is the lie.”

  “Okay, you first,” I say.

  He leans back and laces his fingers behind his head, pondering. “All right, let’s see… I couldn’t stand cats until I got Pumpkin. I’ve never been outside the continental United States. My dad’s from Texas.”

  I smile a little, ticking off each statement in my mind as I try to decipher what’s true. “Was the first one the lie?” I ask finally.

  He laughs. “Nope. The last one. I only picked out Pumpkin because our landlord doesn’t allow dogs. Thankfully she grew on me. And it’s true I’ve never been outside the US, though I’m planning to fix that as soon as I can. My dad’s Puerto Rican, or so I’m told – I never met the guy.” He shrugs like he could care less.

  “Really?” I say, surprised on all counts. “I actually haven’t been outside the country either.”

  “Yeah?” he asks. “And yet you already know you want to move to China or Spain?”

  I smile at the fact he remembered. “Yep,” I reply.

  “Okay, your turn,” he says as he saws off another bite of his calzone.

  I chew and swallow the food in my mouth and take a slow drink of water as I think. “Okay,” I say after a minute. “I don’t like chocolate. My mom is a twin. I know how to drive a motorcycle.”

  He smiles and leans forward, folding his arms and placing his elbows on the table as he sizes me up. “The third one,” he says, as if he’s completely sure.

  I laugh. “No, the second one.”

  “No way!” he says. “I call bullshit. You’re telling me you know how to drive a motorcycle?”

  I nod proudly. “Our neighbor has dirt bikes, and he taught me how to ride last summer. I rode all the way to Battle Mountain with him and his wife.”

  He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “And you hate chocolate?”

  “I don’t hate it, but it’s not my first choice.”

  He taps his temple, a glimmer in his eye. “Noted,” he says.

  We continue to sit there for another hour, trading facts and fictions about ourselves. Among other things, I learn that Kyle wants to go camping but has never been, he listens to steel drum music to relax, he calls his grandparents by their first names (Jack and Donna), and he learned from his grandma how to knit (I’m sworn to secrecy on that one). He, in turn, learns that I ride horses, I’ve been skydiving four times with my sister, and I’ve seen the movie The Avengers seven times. By the time we walk out of the restaurant it’s close to nine o’clock, and I feel like I know more about Kyle than I do a lot of my “friends.”

  As soon as we’re outside, Kyle shoves his hands in his pockets and asks, “What are you up to for the rest of the night?”

  “Just reading I guess,” I reply. “Nothing exciting.”

  “Wanna come over for a while?” he asks. “Since you brought me my hat I have a gift I’d like to give you as well.”

  “Really? A gift?” I ask, nibbling on the corner of my bottom lip.

  “Yeah, a gift. You know, like a present,” he teases. “It’s not much, but it’s something I want you to have.”

  I bow my head as a blush overtakes my face. Grinning back up at Kyle from beneath my eyelashes I say, “Okay. I can come over.”

  Chapter 10 – Decision

  Saturday, August 27

  Kyle – 9:00 PM

  It’s all I can do to keep my eyes on the road as I drive. Tawny’s hair is swept up off her neck in a bun, and even though I prefer it down, I like being able to see the graceful arch of her neck. She’s wea
ring denim capris and a white halter top that sets off the lightly bronzed hue of her skin. It also leaves her shoulders and half her back bare – holy hell she looks gorgeous. It makes sense she rides horses – now I know where the definition in her back muscles comes from. Plus, I’m almost positive she’s not wearing a bra. God help me.

  Once we’re in my living room I ask Tawny to wait while I get her gift from my room. Shelley is out of town this weekend, so the living room is free, and I think it might be best if I didn’t have Tawny anywhere near my bed tonight.

  I pick up the cardboard envelope from Ball Photo Supply off my desk and shuffle through the handful of photographs I had printed as eight by tens this afternoon. Most of them are for my portfolio, but my favorite of the bunch is the one of Tawny. I’ve softened the light and desaturated the colors a bit, and overall I’m pretty pleased with the final product.

  I hold the print behind my back as I walk back down the hallway. I smile to myself when I find Tawny standing in the middle of the living room floor exactly where I left her. “Are you ready for your present?” I ask. She nods, and I hold out the photo to her. Her eyes widen when she recognizes her own face.

  “When did you take this?” she asks quietly as she takes it from me, holding it carefully by the edges so as not to defile it with fingerprints.

  “That night on the quad. I took a few of you and your friends, I hope you don’t mind.”

  She glances up at me, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t mind.”

  I clear my throat and say, “Anyway, out of all the ones I took that day, that one was my favorite.”

  “You’re a good photographer,” she says as if she’s agreeing with me. Obviously she missed my meaning.

  “It helps having a photogenic subject,” I reply. “You’re very pretty.”

  The blush staining her cheeks is unmistakable. “Thank you,” she says, almost in a whisper.

  After a moment she looks back up and says, “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it for a project or something? I don’t know…I mean, I don’t usually display pictures of myself around my room.”

  I chuckle. “Give it to your parents as a Christmas gift then. I’m hoping to take some more later for myself.”

  “Oh really?” she asks, her hesitant expression supplanted by a smile that seems almost defiant.

  “Yes,” I tell her, stepping a few inches closer to her as I stare down into her big cobalt eyes. “With your consent, of course.”

  She taps her cheek with her index finger, pretending to consider. “Hmm… You’re going to have to ask nicely,” she replies.

  I smile, grinning wickedly. “Tawny,” I begin, lowering my voice as I step even closer. Her breath seems to catch in her throat, and I watch as the smile drains from her face, replaced by a look of unmistakable desire that’s driving me fucking nuts. “Will you let me…shoot you?” I ask finally.

  For a moment she doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then she exhales and offers me a faltering smile. I wonder if she’s embarrassed – I hope not.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be much of a model,” she says. “But I can try.”

  Tawny – 9:45 PM

  Kyle and I settle onto the couch to watch reruns of “Sanford and Sons” – I was thrilled to find out he loves old TV shows as much as I do. There’s perhaps only an inch or two of space between us, and Kyle has his arm draped across the back of the sofa behind me. It seems like he spends only about half the time actually looking at the television – the rest of the time he’s casting me furtive glances, which I pretend to ignore, though secretly it’s making me giddy as a schoolgirl.

  Maybe half an hour after we sit down, Kyle notices me rolling my head from side to side in an effort to pop my neck. “Got a crick in your neck?” he asks.

  “It always hurts,” I grumble. “I think it’s my pillow.”

  “Well here, get on the floor,” Kyle says.

  I blink at him, trying to decide whether he’s being serious. He spreads his knees apart and points at the spot on the floor between his feet. “Sit down,” he repeats. “I’ll give you a neck rub.”

  I meekly move to the floor, my ears buzzing from the blood thumping through my veins, and lean back against the sofa with Kyle’s calves on either side of me. He puts his large, warm hands on my bare shoulders and begins to knead his thumbs gently into the back of my neck, massaging small circles into the sore muscles. At first I have to squeeze my eyes shut from the ache, but then slowly the knots begin to loosen and it starts to feel good.

  After spending several minutes on my neck while I moan and whimper in satisfaction, Kyle moves on to my upper back, stroking down and across and back with his strong, nimble fingers. When he finishes I can barely lift my head, I feel so relaxed. For the space of a moment Kyle’s fingers leave my back, not touching me at all, and I sink deeper into my trance. Which is why I’m nothing short of shocked when the next thing to touch the tender skin at the back of my neck is his mouth. There’s no mistaking the softness of his lips as he brushes them against me – it causes a shiver to roll through me, and the hairs on my arms stand straight up.

  Slowly I lift my head and twist around on my butt to look up at him. His burnished brown eyes blaze with some unquantifiable emotion… Is it desire? Or anger? If you think about it, when it comes to the spark in a person’s eyes, there isn’t much of a distinction between those two very different emotions.

  Kyle reaches for my hands and gives them a tug, helping me to my feet. I stand in front of him, my knees touching his, shaking from the want that’s consuming me. Meanwhile, he gazes up at me, his expression worshipful, as he wraps his hands around the backs of my legs. As I peer down at him, it seems almost as if he’s asking me a question – begging me even – without speaking. Unable to wait any longer, I lean forward, planting one knee beside him, then the other.

  Straddling him like this, seeing the neediness in his eyes and the slight tremble of his lip, I feel powerful in a way I never have before. The feeling is heady – and not one I’m entirely sure what to do with. Slowly I lower myself onto his lap and scoot forward until I’m sitting directly over his package, which I’m pleased to note is already well on its way to becoming solid. His eyelids flutter shut and he groans as I rock into him; his fingers dig into my thighs, then slide up my legs to rest on my hips.

  Intently I watch his face as he closes his eyes and strains his neck forward, finding my lips with his. He sweeps his tongue across my lips, gently prodding them open, then tangles his tongue with mine as his fingers curl into my waist. He lifts his butt up off the sofa, hoisting me up with him, and shifts downward a little so my crotch is pressed tighter against his erection, which is now rock hard. I wiggle a little, relishing the feel of it between my legs, and he moans, “God, fuck” before recapturing my lips. This time his kiss is more impassioned – he grabs at the back of my head with one hand, pulling me to him, while wrapping the other around my ribcage, his thumb resting just below by breast. The whining in my ears grows more pronounced as I’m overtaken by a euphoric sensation unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

  After a moment it becomes clear Kyle is holding something back. His grasp on me is yielding yet firm, as if he’s afraid to move his hands. His thumb has inched up just a hair so it’s in contact with the curve of my cleavage, but he seems reluctant to move it any further. Frustration builds within me. Finally, in a move that’s decidedly uncharacteristic of my timid personality, I break our kiss and let go of Kyle’s shoulders to reach behind my neck. Feeling empowered by the lustful-bordering-on-panicked glint in his eyes, I stall my motions, tugging slowly on the band of material that’s tied in a loose knot at the nape of my neck. The scraps of cloth holding up my shirt fall forward, but my breasts remain covered; Kyle’s gaze is now riveted on my chest. I wait to see what he’ll do. For a millisecond he glances tentatively up at me, then his hands release me and his fingers clutch at the flimsy fabric. He draws it downward painstak
ingly slowly, breathing in deeply when he uncovers my nipples – thankfully, the shelf bra in this top renders a strapless bra unnecessary.

  He splays out the fingers on his right hand so it covers the small of my back and pulls me closer, then uses his left hand to fondle my right breast while teasing my hardened nipple with his tongue. My head falls back, and I close my eyes to keep the ceiling from spinning above me; my breath comes out in short pants as he turns to lavish the same attention on my other breast.

  After a couple of minutes I become achingly aware of the cotton of Kyle’s shirt coming between us. The distinct need for skin-to-skin contact overwhelms my senses. I reach down to find the hem of his shirt and pull upward, and Kyle leans forward and reaches his arms overhead to accommodate me. Once it’s off and thrust aside in an unkempt pile with my own shirt, I brush my fingers softly over the muscles in his shoulders, then sweep them downward over his sculpted chest and the ripples of his abs. His eyes follow the movements of my hands until they reach the waistband of his pants – then he looks up at me, his expression inscrutable.

  He’s made it clear I’m the one in charge here; I’m almost positive he’ll go as far as I want to go. My mind races, wondering just how far that is. Right now, in this moment, all I want to do is ride out this wave of exhilaration that’s so far beyond description.

  My frenzied heart thrashes against my ribs as I slip the button on Kyle’s pants through the buttonhole and tug down on his zipper. His gaze is cast downward as my hand begins its exploration inside the opening I’ve created. I bite down on my lip the moment my probing fingers come in contact with his swollen bulge, and for his part Kyle simply lets his eyelids flutter shut and mutters, “Ohhh shit.” He rests his head back against the sofa as I scoot back just enough to allow myself the space to continue my investigation. I rub my fingers back and forth over what I can reach of his shaft, but a moment later Kyle decides to help me. He lifts his bottom, and I scoot back further while he pulls his pants down to his knees.