A Glimpse of the Dream (6 page)

“Kane?”

“You win. You can let go.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. I think maybe I’ll take a swim.” But he climbed out of the water and reached for his towel, wrapping it around his waist. As I followed him out, he turned to me.

“You have the same look on your face that you get when looking at one of Mrs. T’s cakes. What’s going on with you?” I asked, my hands moving to my hips. His black hair partially covered his face, and those blue eyes, usually so cool, looked hot, sizzling hot.

“It’s just, you’re different.”

“I’m different. What are you talking about?” He looked down to my chest. “Oh, these. I know, right, they grew overnight.”

He swallowed as if that was hard for him.

I had breasts finally, and my roundness, as Kane called it, had thinned out so I could wear a bikini. It was about time. There were a few boys at school interested in taking me out, but I was Kane’s. We kissed a lot but we never did anything more. Partly because I hadn’t been ready and partly because we lived together and we weren’t sure how Mrs. Marks would feel about it. I could admit that I was ready now. I wanted to go all the way with Kane.

“What? I’m not the only one who has changed. Look at that.” I poked his shoulders. “Your arms never looked like that before. And that”—I ran my hand down his stomach over the muscles, all six of them—“I like that.”

My hand brushed over something hard, and I pulled away at the same time he did.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” It came out in a strangled voice.

“Did I do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, whenever you’re around.”

“It happens to me too.”

He looked almost hopeful. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes when you hold me or kiss me, I feel tingles in my belly and my breasts feel fuller and I get an ache . . . down there.”

He was gulping, like he was trying to draw breath into his lungs without much success. “You shouldn’t be telling me this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you, Tea. You know I do.”

I wanted him too, but I couldn’t help teasing him. “You want to poke me with that?” I pointed, since he wasn’t really covering it very well with his towel. “I don’t think so.” And yet my toes curled.

He laughed. “It’ll feel good for both of us.”

“For you, maybe, but for me it’ll be like getting impaled.” Which it probably would the first time—and yet I still wanted him.

“No, it won’t. I promise you, you will want it. You’ll beg me for it.”

I would, I knew I would, but I wasn’t going to relent that easily. “Not likely.”

“I’ll prove it. Let me kiss you.”

I knew exactly where this was going, wanted it to go there, was thrilled that he’d waited to go there with me, so it was easy to agree. “Okay.”

He walked to me, reached for my arms, and wrapped them around his waist. Cradling my face in his hands, he kissed me. Just his lips at first, a slight brushing that I felt all the way down to my toes. When the tip of his tongue touched the corner of my mouth, I wanted more of it, more of him. Pressing myself against him, I opened my mouth and he slipped his tongue inside. He tasted so good, his tongue sweeping my entire mouth and, as if on cue, my breasts felt fuller and the ache started.

I pulled my mouth from his. “Kane?”

“Yeah, Tea?”

“You’re right, I do want you to poke me.”

He laughed, wrapped me in his arms, and carried me to the blanket. “Told you.”

“Can we?”

His eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“I want it to be with you and I’m ready now.”

“Ah, well, I would like that too.”

He seemed nervous, so I kept teasing him because, despite what we were about to do, it was still us. “I only want you poking me.”

The grin caught me by surprise. “Stop calling it poking. You really want to do this now?”

“I really do. Did you bring a condom?”

Color bloomed on his cheeks. I giggled. “You planned this.”

“No, but I was hopeful, very, very hopeful.”

“To be with me?”

“Only you, Tea.”

Sitting up, I reached for the string of my bathing suit, but he stopped me. “Let me.”

His fingers shook as he lightly brushed them over my shoulders, then up my neck. I felt the slight tug before my suit top slipped to my waist. I was a little embarrassed, being exposed to him, but the heated look on his face made the uncomfortable feeling fade.

“So beautiful, Tea,” he said while his fingers brushed me, his touch making the ache between my legs intensify.

“Lie back.” His voice had gone all rough.

Lying back, he settled next to me on his side, his head on his hand, while his free hand cupped one of my breasts, his thumb brushing across the tip.

“How’s that feel?”

“Really good.”

“How about this?” he asked a second before his mouth replaced his fingers.

“Oh my God, Kane.”

A wetness accompanied the ache between my legs. My hips started to move, seeking relief. His hand moved down my body, slipping under my bathing suit, and his mouth continued to drive me wild. As soon as he touched the place that was aching, my hips lifted off the blanket.

Reaching for him, I touched the hard bulge in his swim trunks. He exhaled on a moan.

“I want to see.”

I didn’t have to ask twice. He jumped up and pulled his shorts off, his erection bobbing to attention. I giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s like it’s on alert.”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“With you, yes.”

He settled on top of me. Spreading my legs, I felt him right where his fingers had been, and he was so hard and smooth, it was my turn to moan.

“It’ll hurt the first time.”

“I don’t care.”

And then he was kissing me, full on the mouth, his tongue pushing past my lips, tasting and claiming. The ache was back, even stronger than before. His hands moved everywhere, touching and learning. And then his finger was pushing into me.

“Oh.”

“Does that hurt?”

“Yeah, but it feels good too.”

Our eyes were locked when he did it again, pushing his finger in slow and deep. The sound that came from the back of my throat was one of pain and pleasure. He worked me, in and out until my body adjusted to the intrusion, and then he shifted and reached for the condom. I was fascinated as he slid it on. He was so hard, and kind of purple with bulging veins, and yet he was beautiful.

Settling between my thighs, he wrapped his hand around himself and guided it right where it needed to be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered right before his hips shifted and he pushed himself in. It hurt, he was only a quarter of the way in, but it hurt.

“Want me to stop?”

“No. Just do it fast.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt less if you just do it fast.”

And he did. With one powerful thrust of his hips, he was fully inside of me. Tears smarted in my eyes, because it really hurt. I almost told him to pull out, but as long as he didn’t move, it didn’t hurt.

His face was pinched, and I wondered if he was in pain too. “Does it hurt you too?”

He laughed out loud. Not the answer I was expecting. “No, it feels really good. It will feel even better when I start to move.”

“You have to move?”

“We’re not going to come if I don’t.”

The pleasant ache was gone; I doubted I was going to feel anything but pain, but I wanted him to come. Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him deeper. His eyes closed on a groan.

“Move, Kane.”

He didn’t wait to be told again; he moved slowly and I felt the tingles in my stomach and my breasts started to feel heavier, but the ache between my legs was not the good kind. His hips moved faster, and I winced each time he thrust, filling me completely. And then his body stilled, but his expression, the look of euphoria, took my breath away. We stayed like that for a while, and when his eyes opened there was more than euphoria in his gaze—I saw love.

“Did you?” I asked just to be sure.

“Yeah, that was incredible. You didn’t, but I am nothing if not persistent.”

I laughed. He was such a clown. “I liked watching you.”

He pulled out of me and, as much as it had hurt, I missed being connected to him. “I’ll be right back.”

I wasn’t a virgin anymore and I was okay with that. I really wanted to feel whatever it was Kane had felt, but having him inside me, pain or not, had been perfect.

My eyes flew open when I felt a soothing coolness between my legs. Kane was there, back in his trunks, with a towel soaked in seawater, pressing it where I hurt.

“How badly did I hurt you?”

“Not so much.”

“Sorry you didn’t come.”

“I didn’t expect to the first time.”

“We’ll try it again when you’re not so sore.”

He looked down, his eyes where his hand was, before his gaze lifted back to me. “Love you, Tea.”

My heart stopped for a second and my chest got all tight, hearing this boy say those words to me.

“You don’t have to say them back.”

Sitting up, I moved to kneel in front of him, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “I lost my heart to you the day we hung the angels on the Christmas tree.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Totally.”

Wrapping me into his arms, he kissed me so long that I begged him to poke me again. And this time, when he came, so did I.

As I sat on the sofa on the balcony off my bedroom, my thoughts remained on the day before: the day Kane and I had sex. He told me he loved me. I knew he did, but I kind of thought it was like the love someone had for a dog. Not that I was comparing myself to a dog,
but
I
was a trusted companion. It wasn’t that kind of love he felt for me though—he
loved
me. I saw it in his face; even though he was very good at keeping his thoughts private, I saw it. He let me.

I can’t lie, that first time we had sex it hurt, and the second time too, but then the feelings swept in—the tightening in my belly, the rush, like a wave just getting ready to break, my body feeling suspended for just a beat or two. When I did fall, it wasn’t in fear, but in the most incredible sensation. I liked sex, loved it with Kane.

I think I might have been walking a little funny that day, but considering how I had become sore, I was okay with that. Kane didn’t want to have sex again until I stopped hurting. Earlier, he’d brought me a warm compress for the ache between my legs, wanted to help me place it, but I think that might have led to the very act he wanted to avoid.

I wondered if Mrs. Marks knew that Kane and I had had sex. She seemed to know everything, but I didn’t how she would feel about that, us both being her charges. I kind of thought we were a foregone conclusion. We’d been thick as thieves for eight years. I’d loved him for almost as long as that.

He had left an hour or so ago to put out a small kitchen fire in the diner. I really hated that he was a firefighter—one of the three volunteers in the town who helped the regular squad. He’d signed up as soon as he’d turned eighteen. He had witnessed a boat burning as a kid, and he couldn’t believe how fast it had gone up, how quickly the fire had itched to spread. Thoughts of that happening to people’s homes, with all of their possessions inside, was what motivated him to volunteer. I understood. It was who he was, after all, but we had fought about it. He promised he would be careful, focused. Yet every time he was called, I waited for his return with my heart in my throat.

Mrs. T was baking something sinful. The smell wafted up to me. Maybe it was pastries. I could eat them all before Kane got home, another downside to his foray into fire management. I didn’t actually reach the kitchen, because I heard voices coming from the library, rather loud voices, so I went to see what was up.

Before I stepped into the room, I heard Kane. That little bugger, he was probably already eating the pastries. I started into the room to give him a piece of my mind, and then I heard the second voice, Camille. My body just froze, except for my heart, which was pounding in every part of my body. What was she doing there?

“The way you handled that fire was very sexy,” Camille purred at my boyfriend. Sexy? Putting out a fire was sexy? He’d probably used a fire extinguisher. What the hell was so sexy about that?

“You said you needed to ask me something, so ask.” He sounded pissed. Pissed was good. I could work with pissed.

“Not here. Maybe we could take a ride out to your little island.”

No!
I screamed in my head. That island was our special place—even more so now that we’d had sex there. Camille wasn’t welcome. I knew he felt the same way, and yet I still held my breath for his response. “Are you fucking out of your mind?” he asked.

He always was better at comebacks than me.

I could hear her pouting. “I miss us, miss you. Why can’t we give it another try?”

“We never gave it a first try. Despite your best efforts, the closest we got to a try was you sticking your tongue down my throat.”

“It’s her, isn’t it? You’re like her lap dog. Everywhere she goes, you’re right there at her side.”