Read Randomly Ever After Online

Authors: Julia Kent

Tags: #BBW Romance, #Coming of Age, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Fiction, #General, #Genre Fiction, #Humorous, #Literature & Fiction, #New Adult, #New Adult & College, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Women's Fiction

Randomly Ever After (2 page)

BOOK: Randomly Ever After
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I was
me
.

Sam’s pants made an audible thunk as they hit the floor.

“I see you’ve been commando,” I noted, emitting a low whistle he cut off with a fevered kiss that made me arch against him.
As his lips slanted against mine, tongue exploring with a connective urgency, my mind grasped at its final moments of clarity to take a moment to pause, to admire, to cherish what we’d created together. From awkward, tentative desire eighteen months ago and miscommunication and misunderstanding we’d deepened our souls, together.
 

The sex was an afterthought.

An
i
ntimate, toe-curling, pulse-pounding, smile-inducing, sweaty afterthought, to be sure, my mind slippery and wet (along with the rest of my body), his hands sliding my pants off and magically conjuring our mutual nakedness, his eyes dark and smoky, so verdant.

This—the joining of bodies—was just a continuation of our heart merger, the mixing of flesh and blood and soul and love that now came out with the wrap of a hand on hot flesh, the stroke of a thumb
just so
, the push of a palm against pliant curves, the rush of a tongue in the perfect place.
 

The perfect heart.

The ideal soul.

He had mine and I had his and as I opened my legs to welcome him in an embrace, the soft skin of my inner thighs clinging to his hips,
vulnerable yet wanting,
the tight clasp of my knees against his ripped back, the press of abs against abs, his mouth sucking and teasing my nipple into clenched spasms in concert with my walls below, I whispered his name through closed teeth.

“Sam.”

It echoed thousands of times in caverns within dimensions where I knew parts of us lived, the sound reaching out through frequency and
time immemorial, reaching all the Sams and Amys ever known. All the parts of us. Every fragment, each atom, every breath.
 

He pulled back, face over me, eyes full of all those times and places, radiating joy. Inside me, he pulsed, our heat unimaginabl
y
stoked, like an ember made from gentle cells, a radioactive core where we could connect without words.

He said only one word in response as he shifted his weight and cupped my jaw, the shining light of tears pooling in those intense eyes making my own fill up as well.

“You.”
The word slid up from my sacrum in a long, loving line up my spine, entering at the base of my neck, traveling through my blood to flood my heart.
 

I stretched up, curling our hips into each other, making him touch me so deep inside we slipped briefly through a portal where only our connected mouths mattered, where we were the center of the universe, the beginning of everything, the epicenter, the core, the divine.

As he moved within, slow and
unhurried, taking his time because why not? We had it all. We were a multiverse of love, the climax building with aching anticipation, until suddenly it was there, both of us alone and conjoined, separate and interconnected, skin and bone working to express the pleasure of emotion so well understood.
 

O
n the brink of letting myself fall off the cliff of orgasm and flow, Sam whispered, “You. Only you, Amy. I love you so much, and only you could bring me so much. I wake up to you in my arms every morning. I go to sleep with you each night. We found something no one else has. No one else ever will.” His eyes sparkled in the light, so beautiful and changing, sincere and centered.

His palm grasped the lush flesh at my hip, moving up to my breast, the other arm puling me up until I was in his lap, half-riding him. His strokes shortened b
ut
hammered home his words, the change in position and intensity lighting me, making me airborne, sending me into the ethers.

We had a pact. An understanding. An emotional contract, if you will—and the explosive burst of mutual orgasm left me without memory. Pure flesh. Pure heart. Pure soul, so splintered and whole, so breathless and calm, so paradoxical and so, so treasured.

I
came back to my logical mind minutes later, cradled in Sam’s arms, bodies spooning, breath uneven and halting, like we’d just run a marathon.

“God, you’re so....” The fade of his voice made me laugh.

“That good?”

“It’s always that good.”

He was right.

“And I want it to always be that good,” he added.

My heart began to thump in double time though I hadn’t moved a muscle. Not even a twitch.

Always.

Now there’s a word to ponder.

Always.

Sam

I couldn’t stop touching the ring in my front pocket.

That’s right—
ring
. The word sounded so heavy, so weighted with importance. Ring. Like the words wife and husband and wedding and marriage.

And I couldn’t stop touching the box that held my future.

Amy had caught it, the rift between my presence in that moment just before words didn’t matter. Words, though, were exactly what I needed today, because tonight I was going to sing a new song I’d written just for her—and propose.

Propose. That word feels like a fifty-pound lead ball that sits in your stomach.

And like the lightest, most beautiful bird gliding over the endless sea.

Both of us naked and a bit sticky, we pulled apart, the shower a strong need. “You go first,” I said, pointing. “You take longer.”

“Want to take one together?” she offered, eyes gleaming and cheeks pulled up with dimples.

I groaned, body half ready and part of me hardening at the thought. God, I was tempted. So tempted. But—

“No,” I groaned, clearly torn. She laughed.

“You’re getting old,” she teased.

I pulled back the covered and showed her exactly how
not-old I was.
 

“Shame to waste that,” she said, shaking her head and licking her lips with exaggerated lusciousness, making me rock hard again, one-eye staring up at me from my groin with agonizing attention. Did I really have enough blood in my body to produce
that
?
 

Bzzzz.

Our heads swiveled in unison to my phone, which bleated strange humming noises on the nightstand.

Her laughter tinkled like chimes as she walked, bare naked, out the room to the bathroom. I grabbed the phone and—Trevor.

The text said:

You ready?

I looked down at my attached flesh joystick and snorted.

For what?
I texted back.

WTF, dude?
he answered.

Oh, yeah. The song. The proposal. The—all of it.

Yeah
, I texted.
You helping?

You sound like a frog yodeling when you sing. Hell yeah I’m helping. You need it.

Thanks
, I thought, rolling my eyes. My fingers fluttered at my side, knuckles aching. Thanks a fuck of a lot.

You’re a ray of fucking sunshine, Trevor. You know that?
I texted.
You sure this isn’t Joe?
I checked my phone just in case. Nope. Trevor.

Not Joe. I aim to please
, he replied.
Get your ass down here.
 

I stared in the general direction of the shower, where the sprinkle of water on tile called out like a siren song, my body primed for round two with Amy before the big night.

Can it wait thirty minutes?
I asked.

You only need three if you’re waiting for sex
, he texted back a little too fast.

Darla?
I asked.
Get off the phone.
 

Damn. You’re good
, she shot back. Geez. Did Trevor and Joe share everything with her? I supposed so. When you’re in a permanent threesome like they are, sharing goes to a whole ’nother level.

That’s what she said
, I typed, then backspaced. Didn’t want that on my permanent record in case it pissed Amy off. And right now, as I reached for my pants and her engagement ring box tumbled out of the front pocket and nearly fell into a heating grate, pissed off was definitely not the state I wanted her in tonight.

The water in the bathroom stopped just as
I
cradled the diamond ring in my hands. I shoved it in the end table drawer and closed it quietly just as Amy walked in, covered with a towel and drying her long, wavy, brown hair. Her face was flushed and mo
u
th turned in a funny, half-confused smile.

“You were...delayed?” Her eyes snapped to the phone next to me.

“Darla. Pestering me to get to rehearsal before the gig.” Not quite the truth, not quite a lie...but it didn’t feel right.

Amy took it as fact, snorting. “She goes into manager mode and becomes a dictator, doesn’t she?”

I smiled. “Jealous?”

Her snort doubled in sound. “Hardly. I’m studying to live in a non-stop quiet environment where I encourage people to lower their voices, not scream and clap harder.”

“And that’s the difference between you and Darla,” I said, walking toward the bathroom to take my own quick shower.

“That’s not the only difference,” she said firmly.
I stopped and paused, wondering what to do next.
 

I thought about the ring, so close, so inviting. I could do this right now. No song, no stage, no showy moment, just ask her to be my wife for the rest of our lives in the afterglow of what we’d just had in bed. Maybe that was the perfect way to do this. Maybe that was—

Bzzz.

Amy’s phone jolted to life. She picked it up and stared at the screen, groaning.

“Your mom?” I asked. My erection disappeared in two words. World record.

She shook her head. “Worse.”

“Your brother?” Evan never texted her, so I was surprised.

“Group project,” she muttered, typing furiously with her thumbs. I exited to the sound of her grousing, smiling to myself.

Public proposal it was.

Which meant I would ask the love of my life to marry me while yodeling like a frog.

Amy

“You’re dressed a little too much like Liam’s sex doll for my comfort,” Sam said to me as I walked into the nightclub where the guys were setting up for tonight’s performance.


What do you mean?”
I looked down in horror. Random Acts of Crazy t-shirt. A short skirt. Red lipstick. Narrowing my eyes, I gave
him
the stinkeye, then shaped my mouth into a perfect “O” like a sex doll and winked.

He burst into laughter and slid his arms around my waist, yanking me into his body, his hardness evident. “You’re turning me on,” he whispered, hot breath making my neck tingle. His fingers combed through my long hair. I’d left it down and loose tonight, knowing he loved that.

“Sex dolls turn you on?” I murmured into his neck as he kissed my ear. My own hands sought out his body, confident now when I touched him. Permission long ago granted, I reveled in possessing the right to touch him at will, his muscled ass tight under fraying jeans that were so old they felt like su
e
de under my hands, the
cloth the
color of a pale summer sky.
We’d been together for more than a year now, and I loved him so much.
 


You
turn me on.” His kiss plunged right in, stubble grown out over three days to give him a bad-boy look scratching my face, his tongue hot and fevered. Always nervous before a performance, Sam used sex these days to center him. Calm him. Put him in The Zone.

“Get a room!” Joe shouted from across the too-well-lit nightclub. It was only seven o’clock, and the place was deserted. The doors wouldn’t open for another hour and the cleaning crew was w
o
rking hard to wash the permanent mess of sloshed drinks off the painted concrete floor.
The scent of b
leach filled the room, and the blinding track lighting above made every blemish, every chipped stair, every scratch in the table tops stand out.

But the gig paid them each a grand or more, so we were here. Darla ran around with a clipboard and a bluetooth device jammed in her ear. You never knew if she was talking to you or to someone on the phone.

And speaking of Darla...

“They got a room!” she hollered back as Joe rolled his eyes. She looked at me as I broke the kiss and wiped my mouth, a little embarra
s
sed, though that feeling was fading over time, too. Sam lived with Trevor and I’d seen more than my share of just how wild Darla, Trevor and Joe could get.

It made me and Sam feel like a nun and a monk in comparison.

“We do?” Sam asked, nose twitching with amusement. He grabbed my hand and
we
ran over to Darla. “Where? Point us to it.”

She pointed to a door marked “Custodian.”

“You want us to have sex in the mop closet?”

“It’s bigger than Amy’s old apartment,” she cracked.

“Hey!” Liam called out, running into the room. “What’s wrong with Amy’s old apartment?”
Liam had taken over the lease when I had moved in with Sam and Trevor. My apartment had been so tiny you had to peel back the futon I slept on to open the front door the whole way. But it was cheap.
 

“It’s the size of your penis,” Joe shouted.

Meant to be an insult, Joe’s comment just emboldened Liam. “Why, thank you! I didn’t realize my dick was
3
00 feet square.”

“That’s your ego,” Darla said.

Liam shot her a pissed look and opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by his own girlfriend.

“His penis is big enough, thank you,” said a calm, mature voice. Charlotte, Liam’s former ex, came into the nightclub dragging—yes, a sex doll.

“Esme 3.0!” Liam ran over to it and gave it a big hug.

“Seriously?” Charlotte said, giving him that look. “
She
gets attention before I do? You really do have a plastic girl fetish.”


She doesn’t call my penis ‘big enough’.”
 

“You act like that’s an insult!” she said.

“It kind of is,” Joe and Sam said in unison. I swatted Sam’s chest and he grinned down at me.

BOOK: Randomly Ever After
2.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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