Swoon (21 page)

I laughed and grasped her wrist, then quickly rolled her onto her back. “I have something you should salute every time you see it.” I grinned licentiously.

“I’m pretty sure it salutes me!” She giggled and pushed on my shoulder.

I complied, flopping back on a pillow and linking my hands behind my head to watch her straddle me. She bent down and kissed me softly, her tongue teasing me, but her mouth left mine to kiss along my jaw, and she raked her teeth along my ear. I was trying to act relaxed but my fingers were digging into the back of my scalp with the effort.

Her breasts brushed my chest, and she continued south, kissing and licking and nipping as she crawled backward. She let my dick slide between her tits a few times and I. Almost. Died. Fuck me. My hips couldn’t stop moving and my breath was coming out in short huffs, and when she sucked me into her mouth I almost died again. It would be a good way to go, though.

I watched her head as she worked me up and down—every once in a while she’d look up at me and our eyes would meet. I don’t know why that was so hot. There was no innocent look there. It was a look of power and confidence. She smiled around me and I almost lost it.

When she added her hands into the mix, I did lose it. Both my hands fisted in her hair and I pumped my hips into her mouth, and she kept right up. I wanted to let loose in her so much it hurt. Badly. But I also knew that she was leaving, and I wanted the memory of being inside more than just her mouth before she left.

I tugged her hair to raise her up and she licked her lips after releasing me. She swiftly straddled me again and positioned herself over me. We both let out a long groan as I filled her gradually. She started to rise and fall, using her strong legs to ride me, and I pressed a hand to her abdomen, feeling myself move inside her. Holy fuck me. She liked it. I could tell because she placed a hand over mine, increasing the pressure and rocking against it.

I watched her, her eyes closed, head thrown back in abandon as she panted and writhed on top of me. My hand traveled down to where we were joined, tracing shapes and watching her skin flush and glow. Her hands were behind her, bracing on my thighs, no doubt leaving bruises on my own flesh. I wanted the marks to last forever. Or at least until I saw her again. Her nails bit painfully into my skin as her breathing increased, and I felt her muscles begin to contract and shudder and spasm, her release tearing a breathless cry from her lips.

I placed a hand at the small of her back and flipped her over, hooking her knees over my shoulders. Her legs were boneless as I pushed them toward her chest, grabbing a fistful of hair and claiming her mouth as I pounded my release into her, reveling in the sound of our damp skin smacking together and growling fiercely as I allowed myself to get lost in her.

I collapsed heavily, pinning her to the mattress. She didn’t move except for one hand trailing lazily up and down my back. When our breathing started to slow, I pushed myself up on my elbows and brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her face. Framing her cheeks in my hands, I held her steady as I pressed a long, firm kiss to her lips. I pulled back and looked into her eyes, which were filled with longing.

“I have to go,” I said with no small amount of regret. “You drive safe, okay?”

She nodded.

“See you sometime in the wee hours of Saturday morning, okay?”

She nodded again.

“We’re gonna make this work, queenie, you hear me?”

She just nodded again, but a small smile curved her lips this time.

Chapter 22

Steph

M
ile One

Why didn
’
t I say it? I should have said it. It didn
’
t feel right. I
’
ve made such a big deal about fucking everything, I freaked out about all this long-term commitment and what
’
s going to happen in our future, and I
’
ve dragged this poor guy through the mud. For years, apparently. I
’
ve never said it. I couldn
’
t say it. It wasn
’
t right.

Mile Ten

God, I want coffee. Lawrence makes shitty coffee. I hate Starbucks. I want my own special-order coffee, and I really want it now while I
’
m driving forever.

Mile Thirteen

Starbucks sucks. It makes my stomach feel like it
’
s eating itself. And I only wanted a latte. This is flavored and too sweet, but I needed caffeine, so I
’
m drinking it.

Mile Twenty-five

The cushions of my car were digging into the bruise on my ass. I shifted back and forth to regain circulation.

Mile Fifty

My phone bleeped.

Lissa: How much longer?

Me: Fuck you.

Mile Seventy

Why hasn
’
t Lawrence texted or called? Seriously.

Mile Seventy-one

Oh God. I must have freaked him out. I drive, unexpectedly, through several states to meet up with a guy I
’
ve hooked up with a couple of times and whom I have great chemistry with but also whom I
’
ve never given any sort of actual commitment to. I
’
m a crazy person. I looked like shit when I showed up on his doorstep. I looked like shit when I left, since I
’
m still wearing the same clothes I showed up in, although he did wash them for me.

I didn
’
t give much indication of my thoughts on our future.

Lord knows the man loves the
F
words.

Fuck. Obviously.

Family. Of course.

Future. Sigh.

Feelings. Unfortunately.

Mile Eighty-seven

My phone pinged. I looked at the text.

Lawrence: Missing you. Don
’
t text and drive.

I rolled my eyes. Why actually text someone to not text? That was stupid.

But still I smiled ’cause he’d texted.

Mile One Hundred

Do I love him? Is this real? Do I breathe differently?

I mean, when he
’
s naked, I do. Who wouldn
’
t?

But, you know, thinking back to Lissa
’
s description of love
…

Obviously I
’
m capable of breathing without him. I
’
m here now, by myself, still breathing.

Does my breath change just by being with him?

Yes. It does.

But does that mean love? Or lust?

’
Cause there
’
s a lot of lust. Lust I know.

Mile Two Hundred

This is the stupidest drive ever. Did it take this long to get here from the other direction? It didn
’
t feel like it. Maybe I need more angst in my life to make boring things go faster.

Mile Two Hundred Fifty-three

I can
’
t stop thinking about all the orgasms. So many of them. How do I go all week without orgasms? I guess I have to give them to myself. But that
’
s not the same. So was I spoiled this past weekend, with nothing to look forward to? Or does absence make the heart grow fonder and the absence of an orgasm actually make them more special? Because right now I can still feel tiny aftershocks of
O
muscles that need maybe a little extra attention.

Mile Two Hundred Sixty-two

I guess I
’
ll get some gas. I need to pee. My ass is asleep and also sore from the fence bruise. Honestly, who goes down on a girl while she
’
s perched on a four-board fence? It
’
s a pretty precarious position all on its own. Technically, Lawrence
’
s head between my legs was putting me at risk. It was almost selfish.

Almost.

Mile Two Hundred Sixty-eight

Another terrible decision by Lawrence: his sister caught us! That
’
s mortifying. I actually hope she just thought we were having sex in the grass instead of cunnilingus on a fence. Somehow that seems better.

Mile Three Hundred

Why do I miss him? I mean, we
’
ve been apart a lot more than we
’
ve ever been together. And I
’
ll see him in just a few days. No big deal. Feelings are stupid.

Mile Three Hundred Eighteen

Hey! I passed the halfway mark and didn
’
t even realize it. This drive is easy. Only a couple of more hours!

I shimmied in my seat and turned up the radio.

Mile Three Hundred Twenty-seven

I take it back. This is taking fucking forever. I
’
m so bored. No one is around to talk on the phone. Shoot, I hardly know anyone who actually talks on a phone. Lissa won
’
t answer, and I know Lawrence has meetings today, so I don
’
t want to interrupt. Also, I
’
m afraid that we
’
ll start talking on the phone and end up having nothing to talk about. I
’
ve never spoken to him on the phone before.

Mile Three Hundred Thirty

Wait. We
’
ve never spoken on the phone before? How is that possible? Is that a bad sign? Or is it just modern times? Didn
’
t girls in high school get in trouble for talking on the phone to boys all night long when they were
‘
hanging out
’
or whatever the fuck girls did? Clearly, I did not. Lawrence is my first real boyfriend.

Mile Four Hundred Two

This is my first boyfriend. Can you be in love with your first boyfriend? That seems crazy. Ill-advised. Impossible? It seems too easy. I
’
m only twenty-three. Lawrence is twenty-seven.

Holy shit. He
’
s gonna be thirty soon. Is that why he
’
s thinking about the future? Are we too far apart in age? Maturity?

I feel like this whole thought process proves how immature I am when it comes to relationships. No way am I ready for all this.

Mile Four Hundred Twenty-five

This was a horrible idea. I drove to Kentucky for answers. Now I have a whole new set of questions.

Mile Four Hundred Fifty-three

It was a fun weekend though.

So many orgasms.

Also, his family is really nice. Abby and Taylor are a hoot.

And how sweet is it that Lawrence takes them every Sunday? What a great uncle. He
’
ll make a really good dad.

Oh my God, I can
’
t believe I just thought that.

Mile Five Hundred Two

I slumped on my couch with a slice of pizza that I’d picked up in town and a glass of wine. I was so strangely tired considering I’d been sitting all day long. My emotional rampage for the past eight hours might have had something to do with that, though.

I was no closer to feeling settled about things. In fact, every mile closer to home had made me antsier and antsier. One part of me wanted to get back in my car and drive back to Lawrence. Back to where I felt more certain, more sure of myself and of us.

And why the fuck hadn’t he called?

I slid my wineglass onto the coffee table and hopped to my feet, tossing my phone alongside it. No more staring at my phone. He’d call when he could. He’d said he would. Or he wouldn’t. And that would be that. But a shower and clean, comfortable clothes would be nice.

I took my time in the bathroom, definitely not in a hurry to look at my phone. I washed and conditioned my hair, shaved my legs, lathered myself in girly soap. I dried off with my fluffy towels and applied my lavender lotion, slowly. I avoided looking at my phone which sat idly in the other room as I walked to grab a pair of shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. After I got dressed and my phone still hadn’t rung, I decided that my toes needed to be painted. So I returned to the bathroom and picked out some bright blue polish. I sat on the closed toilet seat, propping each foot on the counter across from me to paint them. Yes, my bathroom was really small.

Finally I went back into my living room, grabbed my wineglass without looking at my phone, and walked to the kitchen for a refill. My willpower was extraordinary.

But it ran out when I sat on the couch to flip on the television. I woke my phone up, deciding a quick text wouldn’t hurt or be too stalkerish.

Missed call.

From Lawrence.

Grrrrr. My stupid phone was on vibrate. What was wrong with me? I’d been doodling around the whole time.

I swiped my phone on and returned his call without listening to the voice mail. I stood to pace around as it rang.

There was a short moment of silence when I heard him pick up.

“Hey, queenie.”

A smile spread across my face. “Hi.”

* * * *

Lawrence

“Dude, why are we here?” I was somewhat exhausted as I looked over from where I sat on my barstool to my buddy Jace. He turned away from the two chicks leaning their fake tits over him.

“Come on, man. It’s good to get out a little, away from all your family.” He shook his shaggy head at me. “You can’t just eat, sleep, and work.”

“I do other things,” I said, distracted as a text from Steph popped up. I ignored Jace for a second in favor of responding.

“Like what?” He scoffed.

“Well,” I said, tipping the neck of my beer his direction, “I work out, and I spent the past weekend doing unimaginably pleasurable things to a fantastically hot and endlessly fascinating woman. Lots of things.” I stared off across the bar for a minute, reminiscing back to a few days ago.

“Yeah. I think this chick sounds more frustrating than fascinating.”

I smirked. “She’s that too. But you’ll love her. She’s pretty easy to fall in love with.”

His eyebrows rose. “You throwing around the
L
word now, bro?”

I spun my beer bottle around, studying it. “Nah. I’m not throwing it around.”

I took a sip, feeling Jace’s curious stare boring into the side of my head. “What?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s to get?”

He made a circular motion with his hand. “This girl has dragged you through the mud for years. I’ve never heard a dude, a dude with actual balls that is, talk about a chick like you’ve gone on about her. You were with Tina for months, and I’m not sure I ever heard you call her by her name. Now you’re driving eight or nine hours tomorrow after an entire day on the farm just to spend part of a weekend with this girl. And you’re talking love? Possibly uprooting your entire life? I don’t get it.”