Someone to love, p.17

Someone to Love, page 17


Someone to Love

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font   Night Mode Off   Night Mode

  My hips grind over hers.

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




  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!


  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.

  Cupid’s cupboard. More like Pandora’s box of horrors.

  Think, think! Maybe it’s his inordinate size? Didn’t Ally say he was built like a Redwood?

  I so should have let him use the rubber. I’m so stupid! I’m like some vaginal martyr. Maybe all condoms come equipped with some special lubricant that’s supposed to quell the morning after pain?

  I start the shower, and my thighs shiver with terror.

  “Fuck,” it comes out frail. I spot a bottle of ibuprofen and don’t hesitate in downing two with water straight from the sink. Bathroom water. Everyone knows it’s equitable with human sewage.

  I gag down the pills.

  I can totally envision the live amoebas swimming their way into my intestines. I can just picture them waving back at me like some happy Sea Monkey family as they go on to terrorize my digestive system at random.

  Perfect. I’m going to die of parasites because I don’t know the first thing about how to maintain sanity in my nether regions. Who knew sex would be the first class I’d flunk. They should totally hold a seminar for dumbasses like me.

  I hobble my way into the shower and let the blistering hot water needle over me, in an effort to take my mind off the fact a live grenade went off in my pelvis while I was innocently sleeping. I try to focus in on the curative properties of the molten lava that’s spraying over my skin, subtle as a welder with a blowtorch. And, in the event I thought scalding my skin would somehow diminish the white-hot pain throbbing inside me, I was sadly mistaken. Instead, it magnifies the fact my vaginal walls have morphed into sandpaper. I start in on a shiver. Oddly, it feels as though I’ve just dipped myself in an ice bath because my poor body is so damn confused and wounded.

  The curtain pulls back, and Cruise hops in quick as jackrabbit with the Cheshire cat’s grin plastered to his face.

  My hand rises to my chest. “You scared me.” I jump a little and my boobs bounce into him, apparently ready and willing to take on whatever he’s ready to dish. Traitors. They know damn well my bottom half has yet to recover from his double-edged sword.

  “Come here.” Cruise swims with lust. He picks me up by the thighs and secures my legs around his back—leaving me spread wide and vulnerable to the carnage he’s capable of inflicting. Honest to God, his penis should be classified as a weapon of vaginal destruction.

  Cruise lets the water spray over us as he warms me with his resolute kisses.

  “Jeez.” He pulls back and reduces the heat. “Is that okay?” He smolders over me with a look of wondrous lust and my insides squeeze tight.

  “Better.” I dot his wet cheek with a kiss.

  Cruise rides his hand toward my thigh and slips a finger deep inside me.

  I close my eyes and bury a groan in his neck. It burns to have him there but in a good way.

  He repositions the nozzle, so the shower sprays against the tile.

  Cruise presses me against the wall and the warm waterfall cascades over my shoulders—his mouth never leaving mine. He hoists me high over his hips and takes me just like that, pressing in achingly slow, so amazingly deep. He secures his chest to mine, digging his fingers into my thighs. Cruise glides in and out at a pressured pace, and soon the ravaging effects of last night’s love making disappear, leaving the incredible feeling of his body throbbing inside mine. He pushes in hard, sliding his thumb over that delicate area where his mouth made me wild last night and I jump. He rubs ever so gently until I’m clawing at his back—the breath pumping from my lungs—and the entire universe inside me explodes into a million beautiful pieces.

  “God, Kenny.” He pants as his body quakes over mine.

  I press in and feel him tremble through me as if I had just electrocuted him in the most erotic way.

  My lips flutter over his ear like the trembling wings of a butterfly.

  Cruise drops a mouthwatering kiss over my lips and gently bites down on my tongue before releasing. “Let’s get moving so you can get to class.”

  “I’m not going,” I pant, giving an impish grin. “I’m far more interested in the things you’re going to teach me today, right here at home.”

  “What do you mean you’re not going?” He ticks his head back bewildered, as if I just declared I wasn’t wearing clothes in public anymore—although, he probably wouldn’t mind that one, too much. And, really? I don’t get why he minds my private ditch day, either.

  “I mean”—I pause to swipe my lips over his—“I’ve got some research to do for my gender relations class, like what makes an innocent girl like me vulnerable to a bad boy like you.” I run my tongue along his jaw and he groans, pushing himself deep inside me. I let out a cry in response to the lightning that shoots through my body.

  “Whoa.” He pulls out carefully and lifts my chin with his finger. “You’re not okay, are you?”

  “So, maybe I’m not going to class because I can’t walk.” I bite down hard on my lip with the admission.

  “Well, then”—he presses out a dirty grin and turns off the water—“I guess you’ll just have to be catered to all day long.”

  He flicks the towel off the rung until it topples over my stomach.

  Cruise carries me straight back to bed and licks my wounds quite literally.

  The next morning, Cruise asks if I’d drive to school with him even though he has a faculty meeting an hour before class. Of course, I say yes. I would rearrange my entire schedule to spend just a few extra minutes with him each day.

  I make my way to the student café where I’ve made arrangements to meet up with Lauren and Ally.

  They wave me over in the back, and I make
a beeline to them without bothering to pick up some much needed caffeine. Needless to say, I haven’t done a whole lot of sleeping since Cruise decided to gift me with the best birthday present on the planet—himself.

  “Morning ladies,” I say out of breath as I settle in amongst them. I rattle out a quick confession of the fornicating festivities that have ensued since the most memorable night of my life and the mindboggling pain that glommed onto my privates thereafter like, well, hellfire. “I considered faking a twisted ankle just so I could use those crutches he keeps in his hall closet. Crutches!” I hiss it out in a heated whisper.

  Lauren and Ally explode in a fit of hysterics, and, swear to God, I think Ally just wiped a tear from her eye.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask. “It’s not normal, is it? Knew it. Worse yet, what if I’ve got that viral form of the clap Aunt Jackie hexed him with at Christmas? What if the female version was launching an inferno in the ‘field of dreams?’”

  Ally screams through her laughter.

  “You’re funny.” Lauren says it dry before gulping down the remainder of her coffee. “That happens to everyone.”

  “Crutches?” Ally chokes it out as they continue their decent into maddening titters on my behalf.

  It is kind of funny when I think about it.

  I suppose I’ll never look at crutches the same way again—or a penis. Definitely not Cruise’s extended appendage. God—it was the size of a golf club.

  “So, was he huge?” Ally’s eyes augment in size as if to ask the question for her.

  “I don’t really know.” The urge to gossip about Cruise’s unusual size and stature has suddenly left the building. He’s my boyfriend for Pete’s sake. Boyfriend…

  I give a dreamy smile.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Lauren dips into me, confused. “Didn’t you see it?”

  “Yes, I saw it. And so did everyone in my art class.” I spill the little tidbit about our foray into exhibitionism. “He’s sort of, you know…like an arm.” There’s that.

  “Get the hell out.” Ally shouts it so loud people actually snap their necks in our direction as if she just told me off. She’s not telling me off, is she?

  “No, it’s more normal than that. Oh, I don’t know.” I try to shake it off and change the subject. A familiar blonde saunters past the window and grabs a hold of the door as if she’s about to step inside. “It’s Blair from my art class.” I wave, but she glosses over us and sits by herself a few tables away.

  Lauren and Ally exchange looks, and the table grows increasingly quiet.

  “Everything okay?” I ask because I so know its not. I can totally read silence like a book.

  “Everything’s great.” Lauren lifts her coffee, prompting Ally to do the same.

  “To conquering Cruise,” Lauren says it so loud her voice practically echoes off the walls.

  My face burns with heat at the proclamation, and suddenly I’m thankful he’s not in the vicinity.

  “To love,” I counter.

  Blair shoots me a look and darts out the door.

  “Awe, to love,” Lauren and Ally coo in unison before they drink to this beautiful oblivion that’s enveloped my existence.

  The truth is, Cruise conquered my soul, and now every part of me feels free in every way.

  Free to love.

  Free to drown in the bliss that is Cruise Elton.


  Class begins, and my favorite student is ten minutes late. I’m half tempted to tell everyone to bury their heads in a book, so I can go out and track her down. She probably fell in the snow trying to cool the sting. I feel like shit knowing I physically hurt her and, to top it off, repeated the offense of multiple occasions yesterday—once again this morning.

  A familiar dark-haired beauty walks through the door and I breathe a sigh of relief. She offers a shy smile as she takes a seat up front.

  “Almost forgot.” I snatch the stack of papers off my desk. “Revised syllabus.” I slip the special one I made for Kenny under the pile until I make my way over to her. Our fingers touch and an electrical charge moves from her to me.

  Kenny has trimmed the days in silver—the nights in gold. This is too rich, too sweet—far too wonderful to fully comprehend.

  I give a little wink as I move down the row.

  The only thing I managed to revise on the actual syllabus was switching the dates on the first two essays. Not that I’ll ding anyone if they get confused.

  I sit back on the lip of my desk and watch as Kenny’s mouth falls open from the laundry list of sexual geography I’ve mapped out for the two us—the most ambitious project being the tower. Not that it hasn’t been done before, but without Kenny and me, it has yet to be done right.

  She runs her tongue over the curve of her lip and tilts her head into me.

  “Erotic love,” I say it out loud, never taking my eyes off Kenny. I could care less if the entire student body becomes aware of the special brand of affection I’m unleashing on her. Kenny is quickly becoming my star pupil in and out of the classroom. Something is galvanizing. Something strong is boiling between the two of us, and the whole world should bear witness to the spectacular event. She’s hypnotized me, and now I’m drunk off the wine of her love. “Any thoughts?” I open the concept up to the entire class, but it’s Kenny’s musings I’m most interested in.

  “Eros,” Kenny rasps it out like an erotic whisper, and half the guys in class fix themselves on her person. I’m pretty damn sure she just gave every male in a ten seat radius a boner.

  “Eros,” I repeat. “The Greek God of erotic love. It’s also the term used to describe the impulses of man to satisfy basic, intrinsic needs that propagate the survival of the species.”

  “Or just plain sexual yearning.” She says it slow with a slight drawl that captivates me—makes me want to give her the entire Bible to read while I lay at her feet listening to her speak this way.

  Cheryl raises her annoying little hand.

  “Yes?” I take my gaze from Kenny, slow, like pulling lead weights.

  “Conceptually, it can also be classified as a basic source of energy. A passion, a juice—a hunger for living.” She smirks, satisfied by her textbook analogy.

  “Juice and hunger.” I drip the words from my mouth. That pretty damn well describes what I’m feeling for Kenny right about now. My boxers shift at the sight of her, and I’m quick to walk around the desk to take a seat.

  “Today’s journal topic is Eros love, thanks to Ms. Jordan.” I glance up at the room as they get busy with the assignment. I’m pretty sure the entire class will be in response to Ms. Jordan in one way or another.

  The students drain from class as if there were free beer available in the hall, but not Kenny. She walks up with smooth, easy strides. She cups her hand boldly over my crotch and melts a kiss over my lips, heated like a tropical sunset.

  “You don’t know the war you’re starting,” I murmur.

  “War? Is that what that little sheet of paper you dropped on my desk was about? A strategy guide?”

  “Did you like it?” I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in so tight our hips are immovable.

  “I don’t know what to think. Let’s see…” She rolls her head back, and I run a line of fire up her neck with my tongue. “Candles and a bath, that was a great one.” She says it low, and my body responds to hers. “That may require months of practice before we get it right.”

  “Months.” I confirm, dusting her lips with mine.

  “Role playing—police and thief?” She tilts her head to the side. “Let me guess, you’d like me to arrest you?”

  “No.” I shake my head as a wicked grin twitches to life. “You’re the thief. I’m the cop.” I bite down gently over her lip. “A very bad, corrupt, tainted—unethical officer of the law.”

  “Why am I the thief?” Her eyes sparkle when she says it like maybe she knows.

  “Because you stole something from me.” I run my
hands up the back of her sweater and she groans.

  “And that would be?”

  “You stole my heart, Kenny.”

  “Cruise…” She says it sweetly as her skin flushes with color. “You just melted me.” She reaches down and unbuttons my jeans. “I’m going to have to reward you.”

  “What’s this? Bribing law enforcement with sexual favors?” I knew she’d make a damn good criminal.

  She caresses her hand over the bulge in my jeans until there’s an ache in my gut only Kenny and her unstoppable body can cure.

  “I’d like to speak to the ‘head’ of police, please.” She gives my crotch a gentle squeeze when she says it.

  “Now?” I glance around at the empty room, inspecting it for signs of unwanted life. The slotted windows, on either door, afford a view of bodies milling in the hall.

  Kenny pulls off her jeans with lightning speed, leaving her sweater hanging low in the back. I’m caught off guard by her over-eagerness to please.

  “I checked the schedule.” She lowers her lids, already thirsting for more. “This room sits empty for the next four hours.”

  “Kenny…” I tick back a notch, wondering why the hell I’m even implying a protest. “You’re still sore.”

  “I’m over it.” She bites her lip until all color bleeds out then slowly releases.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Do you care?”

  “A little.” Okay, a lot, but she’s ground down my defenses with that smoldering look in her eye. I want her bad and am willing to risk everything I’ve worked for at Garrison to have her right here in the classroom that the powers that be had the poor judgment to gift me with.

  “Desk or chair?” Her breathing grows rapid as she moves her hips in time with mine like we’re dancing.

  “Most definitely desk.” I cup my hands over her bare bottom, and she takes in a quick breath.

  Kenny slides onto the desk without ever taking her eyes from mine. She pulls me between her smooth silken legs, and I burst out of my boxers like a wound-up spring. She guides me into her body, tight and wet, and that alone evicts a groan from deep in my gut.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
Turn Navi Off
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up