From This Day Forward

by Ketley Allison

  This man was gorgeous. He wanted me. Yet the snake of fear, of self-consciousness, slithered its way through regardless.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I said, and it came out as a whisper.

  “That’s all right.” He pushed up on his hands, and once he was seated, pulled me up beside him. He stroked my hair out of my face. “It’s fine. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  I ducked my chin. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “For the way I’m acting. One minute I flirt with you, tell you I want to sleep with you, and the next I duck and cover. I’m not trying to be a tease—”

  “Hey.” Spence crooked under my chin. “I’ve never thought of you and tease in the same sentence. We’re having fun, getting to know each other, figuring out boundaries. It should be harmless.”

  Harmless. That word stuck against my skin. I found Spence to be everything but harmless. He was probably thinking of those innocent moments, such as when we were bantering across the study table or the time he challenged my pen to a sword fight every time Dante’s world eluded me. Or how about the way he seemed to have a special smile, a sweet stare, whenever I said something particularly funny. What he didn’t understand was that those were the most dangerous times. Those pieces collected, shaping themselves against each other until every flicker of a grin, every brush of a hand, filled the entirety of my heart until there was nothing left but Spence.

  Yet, he was able to keep important parts of himself safe. Secured and locked, while with excruciating skill, he collected fractions of me, each one crafted to fit into his understanding of the Emme he saw in front of him.

  Which meant, if Spence found me harmless, if he was just playing a fun senior game in his last year of college, there was a risk I couldn’t handle it. That my puzzled heart would break.

  Spence lowered his hand carefully. “Should I go?”

  “No,” I surprised myself by saying. Despite the warnings and the logic, I couldn’t let him leave. I raised my eyes to his. “Would you stay the night? Not to…I mean, would you just stay with me?”

  Spence brushed the pad of his thumb across my cheek, then said, “Yeah. I can.”

  He held my hand as we headed to my bedroom. I’d left a lamplight on and we were bathed in a golden glow as soon as Spence quietly shut the door behind us.

  As I was unzipping my hoodie, he asked, “Uh…mind if I take off my jeans to sleep? They’re pretty uncomfortable right now.”

  My face split into a grin, and the moment was lightened. He laughed with me. “Yes, yes, of course,” I said.

  I decided to stay in a tank and boy shorts and slipped under the covers, but not before I caught the bob of his Adam’s apple. He was skilled, I could admit, and quickly glanced away as if he hadn’t studied the entire length of my body in zero-point-two seconds.

  Spence followed suit after stripping off both his pants and shirt, giving me a moonlit view of the span of his torso, both flawed and flawless. It had me second-guessing what I was trying to accomplish by having him sleep half-naked beside me. Platonically.

  The twin bed concaved with his weight but I didn’t mind. For the first time, I realized I missed the familiarity of a warm body in bed next to mine, someone that could take the place of a heater in winter, a pillow in summer. It was nice, hearing his breath, knowing I could roll over and find the crevice between his neck and shoulder at any point during the night.

  I reached over to my nightstand and flicked the light off. What I didn’t expect were his arms to find me and pull me flush against his chest. Spence found my temple, kissed it, before burrowing deeper into the bed and letting out a deep sigh. “Good night, Emme.”

  I wrapped my arm over his. “‘Night, Spence.”

  And that was it. He didn’t push his hips into my ass, never tried to cajole me into turning around for another hot-and-heavy session. Spence simply would spend the night and hold me, as I asked, and would’ve let me fall asleep.

  That fact was both terrifying and revitalizing. The more I laid there, with him wrapped around me, the more certain I became about what I wanted. The dreams I had, both waking and at night, about him. The ways I wanted to lick and suck, to pin his arms above his head and travel the muscles of his body with my tongue. I ached for control, confidence, to hear a man groan underneath my pleasure.

  My own mind would play games and employ tricks. That I wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t simply have him physically because I wanted the sex. And it would stay that way until something was done, until I proved to myself that you know what? I was damned good enough.

  If I didn’t do something, the dreams would surely kill me. I could have him, right now, and finally put the what-ifs to rest. I didn’t need tequila for this. I needed confidence.

  I rolled over.

  “Mm?” In the gloom, Spence raised his brow in sleep.

  Amazing, how fast he could conk out.

  With a slow grin, I moved until I was straddling him.

  I waited until the whites of his eyes glittered in the city lights coming through my window that never truly allowed my room to darken. Slowly, I peeled off my shirt.

  His hands found my hips, and he whispered, “What are you doing?”

  I grabbed his wrist and trailed his fingers across my stomach. With my hand covering his, I dragged it up my torso until it reached my breast. My nipples were already hard.

  Spence closed his eyes and groaned, his free hand gliding around to my lower back, cupping my ass through my shorts. “Are you sure? Emme…I need you to be sure.”

  I hoped he could see my smile coming through the shadows. Leaning forward, I said against his lips, “I am damned sure.”

  Spence caught my lower lip between his teeth before I could sit up again and continue the show. With one arm hooked around my waist, he spun us effortlessly until I was below him and he towered above, blotting out any light.

  “No,” I said.

  Spence froze. “What?”

  Though what he really wanted to say, probably, was, Fuck.

  “I want to…let me be on top.”

  “Oh.” His shoulders moved with a laugh, which eventually shook the whole bed. “Jesus, Emme, I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’ll do whatever you need, but—”

  I lifted up and found his lips, his incredible, talented mouth, dipping my tongue in, asking—no, showing who wanted to be in charge. With a gentle shove, I had him on his back again, took my rightful place above him, and found all the places on his neck, jaw, clavicle, that I wanted to kiss and nip.

  Spence used his fingers to slide underneath the sides of my shorts, gliding down, finding my thong with a groan and causing shivers, and when he slipped his fingers inside me I went dizzy, melting into the black.

  “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “Look at me.”

  Eye contact was a new one for me, but I did as he asked and held steady while every other part of me was shuddering. I could see why he liked it.

  It would be so easy to fall into his ecstasy, especially by the way Spence was responding to my moans, the bulge of him rubbing against his fingers, my core, but while I loved his distractions, I wanted something more.

  I dragged my lips across his, meeting his thrusts but stroking my hand down the safe side of his torso, swirling over his abs until I slipped into his boxers and stroked.

  Spence’s chin shot up and he groaned, his fingers becoming more demanding as my strokes became longer, smoother. Both our sounds were matching the other, exhales, inhales, caresses of pleasure.

  I started shaking, close to the brink, but stopped, pulling away from his fingers. An aching emptiness opened up after he no longer filled me, unexpected, but I headed down. Spence watched every moment, his chest spiking up and down, his body ready.

  With Spence’s very quick, eager help, we had his boxers and my shorts off. Scars didn’t matter anymore, but for him, I avoided his burn, carefully curving my knuc
kles over the elastic waist without touching skin and sliding down. I slid my hands underneath his thighs, curving around, holding still until my mouth found him.

  “Fuck…Emme.” His voice was gravel, grit through his teeth.

  Coupled with my hand, my tongue curved its tricks and with every noise of pleasure he made, I became wetter. He fisted my hair, not gently but not firmly, more to hold on and stay grounded, but that turned me on incredibly. He was big and firm, and the thought of him going inside me, filling that spot of emptiness he left behind with his fingers, I nearly came at the fantasy.

  This didn’t have to be pretend anymore.

  Rising, I took a painful few seconds to find a condom in my nightstand, the movements punctuated only by our cracked, uneven breaths.

  With a dextrous rip, I freed the condom from its packaging and stroked it on to Spence. My fingers, dancing across his length, had him making those gorgeous noises again, and with a lick of my lips I swung my leg over him until I was positioned above.

  I pushed my thong to the side, using one hand to guide him in, slow. Eye contact, the rush of power and sexiness it gave, the fact I was still in my lingerie, had me meeting his stare the entire time. I wanted to watch his face. Wanted him to see mine as I took him in.

  When he was fully inside, I exhaled, sharp and loud. Spence pushed up and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me, with depth. With feeling as he began to move.

  “Oh,” I said as he rocked, the aftertaste of his tongue my lips. “Oh, my God.”

  One hand on the bed, the other tangled in my hair, Spence tilted my head back, sucking and biting my neck as he maneuvered his hips, and instead of the ceiling, I saw stars.

  When I closed my eyes, instead of the stars, I saw him.

  Spence was adorable when he slept.

  In the morning light, his sandy hair tossed across his forehead with the tiniest furrow between his brows, one could almost think he was dreaming of not getting any presents from Santa for Christmas. I couldn’t resist the urge anymore and brushed the hair back from his forehead.

  “Uhm,” he mumbled, his eyes flickering behind his lids for a moment before opening.

  The impact of his green in the nine a.m. light against the white of my sheets hit me with unexpected force.

  “Hi,” I said. Cautiously.

  His lips curved. “Hi.”

  Nothing else being said, he threw an arm around me with sleepy deadweight effort and tucked me against him. I laughed into his skin.

  “A morning person, I see,” he muttered into my hair.

  “Mornings are the best!” I said with emphasized cheer. “It’s the perfect time to work out, make a great smoothie, dance around the house ‘cause you’re feeling so fresh after a lovely cup of coffee—”

  “Shh.” He stifled my enthusiasm by patting my head, to which I melted like a kitten being stroked between the ears.

  “Only one thing makes this time worth it,” he said. He tilted my chin so our noses touched.

  “Morning breath?” I asked.

  He reached up and dragged my lower lip down with his thumb. “By some twist in the universe, you smell as sweet as you taste right now.”

  My tongue darted out, flicking against his thumb. I swore his pupils dilated at the contact. “You smell—and taste—like stale beer.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he said with a mischievous lilt. He caught my hand and we disappeared under the covers. “How do I feel?”

  Hard and ready is how he felt. I went slick at the thought.

  “I want to see you,” he said, his tone rough.

  I stiffened. “Y-you do?”

  “All of you.”

  Swallowing, I glanced around, my room suddenly seen in high definition. “In this light?”

  “Emme.” He cupped my cheek, directing my gaze back to him. “Your body is incredible. You are incredible. I want to worship every part of you. Your elbow.” He found my elbow and kissed it, eliciting laughter. “Your wrist.” Kiss. “Your neck.” He pushed up and topped that kiss off with a lick. “Your nose. Your earlobe, your collarbone…your breast.”

  My tickled laughter turned to moans.

  I was so in the midst of Spence, his warmth and smell and tongue, that it took a few seconds to register that there was a pounding at the door. Our front door.

  I held on to Spence’s shoulder, peering out from under him.

  “Who’s that?” he asked. “Someone for your roommates?”

  “My roommates are useless in the mornings.” I sighed and reluctantly threw the covers off. “I could drop a rainforest tarantula on them both and they wouldn’t move.”

  I grabbed my robe off the hook near my door. “Be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.” Spence threw his hands behind his head, appearing both tantalizing and aroused when I paused long enough to turn around and smirk.

  “All right, I get it,” I said to the continued pounding as I padded to the door and turned the knob. “You want someone to answer—” Startled, I hid partially behind the open door. “Trev.”

  I looked around him, as if the air occupying the space around his body could give me a clue. “What are you doing?”

  “Finally!” he said and without any further invite, pushed past me into the apartment. “You’re actually here. No one around this time to clue you in that I was coming and you could run, huh?”

  I sniffed. “You’re drunk? At nine a.m.? Trev…did you even go to bed?”

  He spun around. “What I do at night is none of your business anymore. You made that clear.”

  “Sure, when you put it that way,” I said, one hand on my hip. “And what I do in the mornings is none of yours, so I ask again, why are you here?”

  Trev puffed out his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking with the effort. “I’m here to give you another chance.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m sorry?”

  “I did a lot of thinking last night, and basically it all came down to you and what a big fucking mistake you’re making.”

  I cast my eyes to the ceiling. “Trev…we talked about this.”

  “Yeah, and you won’t get a fucking clue!”

  He stormed forward and by pure gut instinct, I danced back, hands out. “Jesus—”

  “What's going on?”

  Becca stood in her doorway, clad in a nightshirt, her blonde curls a tangled birds’ nest. “Trev, you are the most annoying little penguin that really needs to find a new mate at this point.”

  “What the hell?” Trev asked, but he wasn’t directing his question to Becca. Trev was more interested in the shadow that came out of my bedroom, boxer-clad and angry.

  “Back away from her,” Spence said quietly. “Now.”

  Becca cocked a grin.

  “You fucking…” Trev looked from Spence to me. “You fucking fucked him? Goddamn.” But Trev did as Spence asked, and backed away. Then he ruined it. “You slut.”

  “Say that to her again.” Spence pounded forward, and even though he only had his boxers as a weapon, he cleared Trev and his boxy frame by at least a head and appeared a hell of a lot more intimidating.

  Spence stepped in front of me, but Trev barreled on as if Spence had never gotten between us in the first place. “You act all innocent, all cute with me when reality is—you wanted to fuck around. You didn’t want one guy, huh? Dip into a few more ice cream cones? Explore different sized dicks? You’re not the person I thought you were, Emme—you were special, and sweet, and mine, and now you’ve tasted some other guy’s cum—”

  “Get the fuck out of my house,” I said, not with any gusto, or yelling. Pure calm.

  “You heard her,” Spence said when Trev didn’t move. “Get your disrespectful ass out of her home.”

  Trev’s nostrils flared. “You think I’m gonna take advice from someone who skin grafted their ball sack to their stomach?”

  I caught my breath. Becca stood stunned in her doorway. Spence’s burn was evident, mottled red with the in
creased blood flow in his veins, a slash of spilled candle wax that started around the curve of his left side.

  With six years of knowing Trev in my head; losing my virginity to him, hitting high school milestones of prom and graduation, moving to a new city, a new college, with him every step of the way, even I didn’t expect Trev to ever, ever hit that low.

  Spence lunged.

  I screamed and fell back. Becca came running, grabbing me and pulling us both out of the fray. Trev had defended with a punch, but Spence dodged and answered with one of his own, connecting with Trev’s jaw with a bone-jarring smack-crack that sent Trev spinning, but he caught himself and came at Spence again.

  “Trev—no!” Becca said, but of course it had zero effect.

  Spence was poised to release another hit, his muscles coiled, but Trev went low and barreled a fist into Spence’s stomach, right where his scars were. Spence doubled over.

  “Stop!” My voice cracked when Trev took the advantage and punched Spence in the kidney.

  Spence used his leg and kicked, hard into the back of Trev’s kneecap and Trev toppled. On his way down, Spence nailed him with a clenched fist to the side of the head.

  I ran forward, pushing Trev further off balance, but not realizing it was me—or maybe realizing and not caring—Trev swung as he went down, catching me in the shoulder.

  I yelped, and the roar that came behind me had me flinching, but I didn’t cower. Instead I twisted on my heel and fell into Spence, my arms holding him at the waist—holding him back, touching his scars. He pushed against me, growling, “Emme, don’t. Let me finish this.”

  “I’m calling the cops!” I screamed over my shoulder, ignoring Spence. “If you don’t get out of here right now, Trev, I’m having you arrested, I’m getting a restraining order, I want you out of my life!”

  My throat was raw, and as Trev sat there on his ass, a hand to his cheek, his expression reminded me of who he used to be. “Em—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You lose, Trevor,” I said roughly. Spence, getting some sense back, pushed my arms away from his waist and I faced Trev. “You coming here, doing this in front of my friend, threatening, insulting and fighting with a guy you don’t even know, humiliating me, and what’d you expect? That I’d fall in love with the macho man again? Need big bad Trev to protect me from my consenting relationship with a guy who, by the way, in the short time I’ve known him, has never made me feel as inadequate as you have. I’ve moved on, Trev. So you fucking move on, too.”