Choosing Henley

by Anne Jolin

  My body melts against him. I know I should pull away if I’m trying to keep up with my whole staying-away-from-him charade, but I can’t. He’s right—I want him. I’m just absolutely terrified of what will happen if I actually have him.

  The drive back to my house is quiet, nothing but the radio on. It’s peaceful though, not awkward or uncomfortable. He reaches over sometime during the trip and laces his fingers with mine. I feel safe in this moment with him—utterly and completely uncertain of our future, but safe. When we arrive at my place, he walks me to my door, kissing me on the cheek before leaving.

  It comes as no surprise to me that, when I drift off to sleep, my dreams quickly find their way to the night I had him. The night when he was mine.

  The summer night has a cool breeze to it that sends a shiver up my spine. At least I choose to chalk it up to that and not to the hand he places at the small of my back, leading me up the walkway. He unlocks the front door, stepping aside so I can walk through first. From what I can tell, it’s a lovely rancher-style log cabin and it’s absolutely stunning. When he flicks a few switches on the light panel, the house comes to life. I see a large, rock fireplace in the living room that opens into a modern kitchen on the right. On the left is a hallway that I assume goes to the bedroom.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asks from beside me, his voice gruff.

  “Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen.

  I lean against the large, marble island as he rummages through the fridge, finally pulling out two Budweiser bottles. He pops the tops, handing me mine before taking a long pull of his own beer. My throat goes dry as I watch the muscles in his throat work when he swallows. Fuck me, he’s hot. I’m so turned on that I have to press my legs together as he drinks his beer. The fact that he just gave me an orgasm minutes ago is not helping my need whatsoever.

  Suddenly feeling very thirsty, I put the bottle to my lips and close my eyes as the smooth flavour pours into my mouth. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me, not hiding the need in his gaze.

  “I’m hungry,” he says, placing his beer down on the counter next to him.

  “We just had dinner,” I tease, taking another sip of my cool drink. It’s doing nothing to lessen the fever touching my skin.

  He moves from where he was so that he’s now standing in front of me. After taking my beer from my hand and sitting it down on the island, he reaches for the hem of my dress. “I’m not hungry for that, baby. I want to taste you,” he whispers, nipping at my bottom lip. He runs his rough hands up my arms, moving them so I’m holding each of them above my head. “Stay like that,” he demands. His fingers tease the hemline of my dress again, making me whimper. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, Lennon?”

  I nod my head and bite down on my bottom lip. I don’t think I’ve ever been this ready in my entire life.

  He finally grabs fistfuls of my dress and drags it up over my head, leaving it tangled around my wrists. He holds my arms in place with one hand while the other palms my heavy breast. “I’ve wanted to see these for so long.” He groans in appreciation as he takes in my bare chest for the first time. Then he moves his hand downward, cupping my ass and lifting me to sit on the island in front of him. “Lie down and keep your hands above your head,” he orders gruffly.

  I’m eager to obey him, desperate for his touch where I need it. “Please,” I whimper as I lie down on the cool marble, a contrast to my burning skin.

  He spreads my legs with his hands, bending down to rub his nose along the middle of my panties. “I can smell how much you want me,” he growls, hooking his fingers into the sides of the flimsy material before pulling them down over my legs.

  “Touch me,” I beg, gripping the edge of the counter with my bound wrists.

  He picks up my right leg, draping it over his shoulder before doing the same with the other. I’m on display for him and he loves it. “I’m going to touch you everywhere beautiful. I’m going to lick, suck, and fuck you until the only lover you can remember is me.” Then he spreads my folds apart with his fingers, dips his tongue inside me, and tastes his way up to my clit. “You taste fucking amazing, Lennon.” He bites down on my clit, my hips bucking off the counter. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth, baby, and I want to eat a whole lot more.”

  “Oh fuck!” I shout as he plunges two fingers inside my tight heat, fucking me with his hand as he teases my clit with his mouth. My body rebels again, writhing around on the counter. He moves his other arm across my stomach and presses me down into the counter. I can barely move with my hands tied together with my dress and his arm keeping me pinned down. It’s only making all the sensations stronger.

  “So. Tight,” he groans between licks, hooking his fingers inside me to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

  “I’m so close, Jami. Please,” I beg, my body squirming on the cool countertop.

  He increases his relentless pace, and less than a minute later, an orgasm rips through my body, knocking the wind completely out of me.

  I’m still lying there, sprawled naked on his kitchen counter, when he stands, licking his lips. “So fucking sweet,” he murmurs before leaning his fully clothed body over mine, removing the dress from my bound wrists.

  “So good,” I moan, closing my eyes again. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my entire life.

  He wraps my legs around his waist, pulling my bare chest against his T-shirt. My hard nipples rub against the material of his shirt and my moan is cut off when his mouth devours mine. The kiss is hard and desperate, both of us trying harder to deepen it further. I taste myself on him and it’s incredibly erotic. Our kissing becomes more passionate. I can feel my lips bruising from the force of our mouths against one another. I’m shamelessly grinding myself all over his jeans, the friction sparking another orgasm on the horizon. He tugs my hair, moving my head to allow him access to my neck. He nips just under my chin as he reaches up to palm one of my breasts before sucking one of my nipples into his mouth.

  “Jesus Christ!” I cry out, looking down just in time to see him bite down on my hard peak. He moves over to my other breast, licking my nipple before blowing on it. “Oh god.” I moan again, loving the sweet torture of his mouth on me.

  I grab at the hem of his shirt and he pulls away long enough for me to dragit over his head. Then I toss the piece of clothing somewhere onto the floor and run my hands over his sculpted chest. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but I’ve never been able to touch him before. Not like this. I trace the lines of the guitar tattoo on his side before letting my eyes get distracted by the V leading down. His impressive length is pressing against his jeans, and I’m overwhelmed with the need to touch him. But when I reach down to undo the button on his pants, his strong hand closes over my wrist.

  “I’m not going to fuck you for the first time on my kitchen counter,” he growls at me, and my pussy clenches in response to the tone of his voice. “Put your arms around my neck and hold on.”

  I do just that, locking my fingers together behind his head. Jami puts his hands back under my ass and lifts me before starting to walk towards the hallway.

  “When that pretty pussy comes around my dick for the first time, I want it to be in my bed. I want to smell you on my sheets in the morning.” His dirty mouth turns me on as I begin roughly kissing his neck. I start to grind my wet heat against his jeans again.“You’re testing my self-control, Lennon,” he says through clenched teeth as he presses me against a wall in the hallway. I take the opportunity to run my nails down his back, and he groans before stalking us off towards his bedroom.

  “I need you,” I whisper into his ear before he tosses me onto his massive king-sized bed. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him undress and the motion thrusts my breasts into the air.

  “I’ve wanted to see you naked in the middle of my bed for so long,” he says as he palms himself over his jeans.

  I thrust my heavy chest farther into the air and
let my legs fall open. “Then what are you waiting for?” I tease, watching his hooded eyes darken again.

  When he finally unzips his jeans, freeing himself, I actually gasp. He’s even bigger than I thought. Stepping out of his pants, he walks slowly over to the bed as he strokes his thick, beautiful cock. I lick my lips instinctively, desperate to have him in my mouth. When he stops at the foot of the bed and I can see the pre-come beading on his swollen head. Sitting up slowly I crawl over to him.

  “I want to taste you,” I tell him, dropping to my knees on the floor.

  He runs his other hand into my long brown hair and groans when I lick the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he moans moving the hand on his cock down to pinch my nipple.

  Taking him deep into my mouth, I feel him hit the back of my throat. He’s so big, and even though I’m deep-throating him, I still can’t take all of him into my mouth. Wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock, I start to suck at the same time, pumping him with my hand.

  “Mmmm,” I hum in appreciation at how fucking amazing he tastes.

  He groans, the vibrations in my throat teasing him. I let him out of my mouth with a pop, leaning down farther and swiping my tongue over his balls.

  “Holy shit,” is all I hear before I’m hauled up by my shoulders and tossed back onto the bed. Then I see him walk over to a dresser before he comes back, rolling a condom over his hard length. He climbs onto the bed, settling between my thighs, running the tip of his cock through my folds before teasing my entrance. “Were you trying to make me come in that hot little mouth?” he asks gruffly, looking into my eyes.

  I bite my lip and nod. “I wanted to feel you come in my throat,” I reply honestly. He makes me feel naughty and bold.

  “Not tonight, beautiful.” He dips his tip into my entrance again. “Tonight, I’m going to come inside this tight, pink pussy,” he growls before slamming into me.

  “Fuck!” I shout, throwing my head back onto the bed.

  He’s kneeling, my ass resting on his thighs and his rough hands gripping my hips as he fucks me with abandon. I feel so full, his massive cock stretching me wide. He looks away from my eyes, down to where our bodies are joined, and I feel my inner walls tighten as he watches us fuck.

  I imagined he’d be amazing in bed, but the reality of him is better than anything I’ve ever imagined before. He is fucking unreal.

  He takes one of his hands from my hips and licks his thumb before pressing it down on my clit.

  “Ahhh,” I moan, thrashing around underneath him. I’m wound tight despite the fact that I’ve already come twice tonight.

  “So fucking perfect,” he grunts, increasing his pounding rhythm.

  “I’m going to come,” I gasp as he applies pressure on my sensitive clit.

  He slams into me again, burying himself to the hilt. I scream his name as the most intense orgasm of my life barrels through me, and I hear him shout mine before he collapses on top of me.

  We stay like that for a while with his throbbing cock still inside my pussy as it continues to milk the come from him. He’s resting on his elbow so the weight of his muscled body doesn’t crush me, and I let my finger nails tickle over his back. “That was...”

  “Amazing,” he finishes for me, and I laugh.

  “I’m not even sure that does it justice,” I admit, running my other hand into his dark hair as his head rests on my chest. I can feel him smile more than I can see it before he sits up. When he pulls out of me, I moan at the loss.

  “I’ll be right back.” He winks, turning around to walk into his master bathroom.

  I don’t miss out on the opportunity to check out his perfect, naked ass. He really is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

  He returns quickly, sans condom, and a wet washcloth in hand. Climbing back onto the bed he starts to clean between my thighs.

  “I can do that,” I say softly, reaching for the cloth.

  “I want to,” he answers, continuing to wash me.

  My eyelids start to get heavy with sleep as he tosses the cloth into a laundry hamper before pulling the covers back. I crawl underneath them, letting my head settle on the pillow as he climbs in behind me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he drags my body back against his, my back to his front.

  “Goodnight, Beatle,” he whispers into my ear.

  That’s the second time he’s called me that tonight. I struggle to keep my eyes open as I ask him. “Beatle?”

  “You’re my Beatle,” he says back, kissing me lightly on the shoulder.

  I usually hate nicknames that have to do with The Beatles, but this one doesn’t bother me. If anything, I actually kind of like it. I am asleep moments later, exhausted from one of the best nights of my life.

  That’s why it hurt to leave him there, asleep, in his bed the next morning.

  Our night together was amazing, but it was only for one night. I figured he would wake up without me and know what it was.

  I TRY TO sleep late on Monday morning to take advantage of my last day off before the salon reopened, but I can’t. I woke up twice in the middle of the night dreaming about Jami, and each time, it was harder to go back to sleep as my brain analyzed everything going on. I know, I know. Typical girl move. Overanalyzing everything. But I couldn’t help it. He is plaguing my head during the day and even at night.

  I roll over in bed to grab my phone from the nightstand and can’t help the excited flutter I get when I see his name on the screen. I slide the unlock button, a little eagerly if I’m being honest, and read his message.

  Jami – Good morning, beautiful. Come over today?

  It’s impossible not to smile like a dork at my phone. He is absolutely relentless. I hover over the typing box for a few seconds when another message comes in.

  Jami – It would be a lot easier if you just said yes.

  Jami – But I will come over there and get you if you don’t.

  I laugh. I don’t think he is kidding about the coming over thing. Not with the way he’s been acting these last few days, and I’ll admit, my resolve is slowly starting to crack.

  Me – Okay. What time?

  Jami – Whenever you’re ready :)

  Me – I have some errands to run this morning. I’ll come over after lunch?

  Jami – It’s a date.

  I put the phone back on my nightstand without answering and climb out of bed to take a shower. When I walk down the hallway, I note that Peyton is still asleep and Beth’s door is open. Looks like she didn’t come home again last night.

  It doesn’t take me long in the shower, but it takes me almost a solid half hour to blow-dry and curl my hair. I tiptoe back down the hall, making sure I don’t wake Peyton. She doesn’t talk about her past very much, but I’ve heard her screaming at night. The first time I heard her, I went running in there, a lacrosse stick in hand. She was sitting up in her bed, covered with sweat and looking absolutely terrified. She wouldn’t talk to me about it, but she did ask if I’d stay until she went back to sleep. We haven’t talked about it much since then, neither of us really being the talk-about-our-feelings type of people.

  I change into a pair of jeans and a sweater before going off in search of coffee. While I’m waiting for the fresh pot to brew, the front door opens and in walks Beth.

  “Well aren’t you just a lady of the night these days,” I tease from my spot in the kitchen.

  She rolls her eyes, looking annoyed that she’s been caught doing what I assume to be a walk of shame on a Monday morning. “Good morning to you too,” she snaps, dropping her purse onto the couch.

  “Have you recently become some kind of drug lord or what?” I quip back, pouring us two cups of coffee.

  She dumps a sickly amount of sugar into her cup. “What? No.”

  “Well then…” I stare at her until she looks at me. “Are you ever going to tell us where you’re going all the time these days?” I know she’s a grown adult, but this behaviour is really unlike her.

  After
taking a long pull of her coffee, Beth gives up. “I met a guy.”

  “And…” I press from across the counter.

  “And he would just prefer to keep our relationship on the down low,” she says nonchalantly.

  “You mean he wants to keep it a secret?” I ask her, completely dumfounded. Beth isn’t exactly the type of girl you hide from the world. She’s smart, funny and gorgeous to boot.

  “No,” she snaps. “Kyle’s family is very wealthy. He’s trying to protect me. He doesn’t want anyone to think I’m after him for his money.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking joking me, Beth.” I gape at her. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard!” I flail my arms around for exaggeration.

  “You don’t know shit, Lennon. Back off!” she seethes, standing up from the breakfast bar. “And don’t you dare tell my sister!” she shouts before stalking off down the hallway and slamming the door to her bedroom.

  “Not telling Hannah my ass,” I mutter to myself in the empty kitchen.

  Beth is acting seriously weird and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to tell someone about it. Especially now that I know more about the situation. This guy sounds like a real prick, and her standoffish behaviour is only sending up more red flags. Something is definitely off here.

  I take my time running errands: picking up my favorite work shirt from the dry cleaners, depositing my Christmas present cheque from Grandpa into the bank, and swinging by the LUSH store on the way home to get more body butter. That shit smells unreal. I vacuum the living room when I get home, do a couple of loads of laundry, and by one thirty, I am done.

  I’m not sure if I should text Jami and let him know that I am coming by or if I should just go over. I opt to just go over. It seems less awkward than sending one of those ‘I’m coming over now’ messages. They remind me of the equivalent of when someone honks when they’re waiting in your driveway. That is annoying as fuck. I slip into a different sweater and grab my coat before heading out the door.