To Be Your Only

by Rae Kennedy

  “Um—”

  He kisses my pussy lips. Gently. His mouth is warm and tender.

  “I...” I can’t think straight. “I usually think about Wes.” Shit! I shouldn’t have said that.

  He stills. He stops kissing me and there’s a beat of silence.

  Fuck. I just totally ruined this.

  “Okay,” he says quietly. “You can imagine I’m him, if you want.” He kisses me there again as he starts massaging my thighs.

  “No. I don’t want to imagine him.” I arch my back, desperate for more. More pressure, more of his mouth. “I like that it’s you, Eric.”

  “You do?” He looks up at me, his nose buried in the strip of my trimmed pubic hair. The sight makes my clit pulse.

  “Yes. The last time I touched myself, I thought about you.” Please, give me more.

  “Really?” That devious little smirk lights up his face.

  I nod, breathless.

  “And was I doing this in your fantasy?”

  “No.”

  “Shame.”

  He kisses me again with closed lips, but this time when his mouth touches the outside of my pussy I feel the tip of his warm, wet tongue slip past my outer folds and into my heat. He uses it to tease the underside of my clit. An airy moan escapes my lips.

  “You taste good,” he says in a throaty voice.

  He slides my panties off and discards them. Then he settles back down between my legs and licks me again. Slowly. His tongue broad and flat. Hot and wet. It sends shivers down to my toes.

  “What were we doing in your fantasy?” he pants between licks. “Tell me.”

  “Um—”

  He swirls his tongue around my clit.

  “Um, you came into my room.”

  “Yeah.” He flicks fast and hard. The concentrated pleasure makes my eyes roll back.

  “I was naked on my bed.”

  “Mm hmm.” He dips down to penetrate my wet opening with his thick tongue.

  Oh. God.

  “You took out your cock and—”

  He laps back up to my throbbing clit and sucks on it until I’m a whimpering mess.

  “What then, Rosenbaum?”

  “Uh.” I try to catch my breath as he goes back to long, gentle strokes the length of my pussy. “You started to jack yourself off. And I watched.”

  “Did you like that?”

  “Yes. I touched myself too.”

  He covers me with his mouth, his tongue undulating between my folds. He holds my hips down as I start to buck and moan beneath him. A combination of my juices and his saliva run down my ass as he laps them all up. The wet noises are too much.

  “You have such a pretty pussy.” He spreads me apart with his thumbs flicks the tip of his tongue over my clit. Hard. Over and over again. “Your clit is out. Can you feel how swollen it is for me?”

  “Yes.”

  My clit is throbbing, pulsing. I’m desperate, clawing at the couch until he finally closes his mouth around it and sucks. He alternates between long, slow pulls and quick, pulsing suckling.

  “Oh. Fuck. Eric. Yes. More.”

  He goes harder. The sensation is sharp. Strong. I feel it through my entire body. Bolts of electricity out to my fingertips. My lips are tingling and puffy and the muscles in my stomach contract as the tension builds.

  I reach between my legs, twisting my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as I rock against him.

  “I’m close. Fuck.”

  He slides a finger into my dripping cunt. Then another. Eric is inside me, filling me. My pleasure peaks and then bursts.

  “I’m coming. Oh shit. Eric—”

  The ecstasy of my climax washes over me, painting the insides of my eyelids with vivid color. My muscles spasm and then relax with the endorphins flooding my system.

  Eric looks up at me, his pupils completely dilated, still licking me through the final waves of my orgasm. I reach for him and he crawls up to me. His mouth is shiny with my wetness and he licks his lips as I pull him down to my face.

  His kisses are hot and hard and the inside of his mouth tastes like my pussy and I love it. We devour each other, our tongues mating. He’s heavy on top of me, pressing me to the couch but I want him closer. The hard length of his erection rubs against my thigh and I reach between us to grip it through his jeans. He groans at the touch, his chest vibrating against mine.

  “Take your cock out,” I say huskily against his lips.

  He freezes over me.

  Then he pulls back, breathing hard, and lifts his body off of me. He glances back to my mouth before pulling away completely and sitting on the other end of the couch.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He hangs his head, running his hand over his face. “Fuck. I actually have to get up really early in the morning. You do, too. We should call it a night.”

  I sit up, confused. “You want me to leave?”

  “I think that would be best.” He doesn’t make eye contact.

  The back of my throat prickles. My skin—flushed with heat and arousal moments ago—is now chilled. My hands are clammy. My mind is chaos and I can’t think straight. What the fuck is this shit?

  I want out of here.

  I need to get the fuck out of here.

  And I’m sitting on his couch, my lower half completely naked. My heart pounds as I look around for my bottoms. My shorts are on the floor and I snatch them up. I put one foot in before I realize they’re inside out. I grunt as I turn them right-side out but it’s taking forever. My hands shake and aren’t working right. I ignore Eric, who’s still sitting on the couch. He’s saying words but my pulse is pounding too loudly in my ears to focus on them.

  Where is my fucking underwear?

  I need to leave.

  He pulls my striped panties out from between two couch cushions and hands them to me. When I yank them from his hand, he looks up.

  But he doesn’t say anything.

  I charge toward the door and he gets up to follow, reaching for my arm. “Ky, wait—”

  I jerk it away from him as I turn the knob. “Leave me alone, Gallagher.”

  He doesn’t follow or call after me as I run down the stone walkway, through the tall grass and flowers, past the barn, and to my car.

  I want to scream as I jab my key into the ignition and peel out of the gravel drive. I want to be mad at him. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to be mad at Eric Gallagher for the rest of my life. Probably. Or, at least, for a really long time.

  Feeling mad is easier than feeling hurt.

  It’s also easier than admitting that I’m the idiot. I’m the stupid one. He told me he didn’t want to do more after. I’m the one who wanted to do more. Thought we were becoming more. He was simply doing me a favor. And he just really likes eating pussy.

  He doesn’t like me. Not like that.

  CHAPTER 17

  When my alarm goes off at five in the morning, I feel like death. My throat is sore. My eyes are puffy and dry. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see him. Not yet.

  I call Tom and tell him I can’t work on the ranch right now. I blab on and on for at least five minutes about how much I enjoy working with him and spending time with his family and the horses, and how appreciative I am of him giving me work this summer. And then, feeling like a complete asshole for giving no notice and no real explanation, I word vomit all over him about how the diner is really busy right now—actually, summer is our busy season—and my mom needs some extra help. He’s, of course, super understanding and wishes me luck and tells me to not be a stranger around the ranch this summer. I say I won’t.

  I hate lying.

  Luckily for me, my mom legitimately needs help at the diner since one of the servers had a baby last week. She wasn’t surprised when I told her I didn’t like ranch work and asked to come back to work for her. She no doubt was just waiting for me to get bored or give up on it like I do everything else, and I fulfilled her expectations. Better her think
it’s just another example of my lack of commitment than the real reason I’m quitting.

  And that’s why I’m now being shown around the diner by Charlotte—the diner I grew up around and worked at all through high school.

  “I know you know all of this stuff already.” She shoots me an apologetic look. “But we’ve got to go through the whole training checklist. It’s policy.”

  I follow her through the restaurant as she checks off each item, pulling on the stupid lacy collar, wishing I could undo the top button of my uniform shirt. Nothing’s really changed.

  “You remember how to work the shake machine, right?” she says, her cheery smile faltering into a grimace for a split second.

  The image of thick, pink ice cream covering Jimmy Rogers’s hair and dripping down his face flashes before me. “I remember.”

  During my break, I sit in my car with the windows rolled down and check my phone. Gracie sent me a couple pictures late last night. They’re in Kansas City right now, heading for Chicago in a few days. I miss her. They stay up all night and sleep during the day so I haven’t been able to speak to her much. Mostly just text. I send her back a thumbs-up, a smiley face, and a few eggplant emojis for fun but it’s half-hearted. Never thought I’d see the day when encouraging my friend to get that figurative big, purple cock wouldn’t fill me with joy.

  I want to tell her how crazy weird I feel right now, and about what happened last night—I’ve always told her everything. Like, she knows details about my life she probably wishes I would have kept to myself. But I don’t know if I can tell her that I’m feeling this way about Eric. Chicago’s only a few hours away—maybe I’ll go visit her.

  And then my phone pings with an incoming text. From him.

  Dr. Gallagher: Hey. Dad told us you aren’t working on the ranch anymore. Is it because of me? Are you okay?

  Fucking hell.

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosenbaum: My mom needed help at the diner so I’m working here instead.

  I mean, that statement is one hundred percent true.

  Dr. Gallagher: You were upset when you left last night. Can we talk?

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosenbaum: We’re talking right now

  Dr. Gallagher: Are you mad at me?

  I physically hold myself back from sending the eyeroll emoji.

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosebaum: Obviously

  Dr. Gallagher: I’m so sorry about last night. It shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. I really hope we can go back to being friends.

  He’s sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. He just wants to be friends.

  Tears fill my lower lids and no matter how hard I will them to stay put, they spill out onto my cheeks. Stupid fucking tears. Stupid fucking feelings.

  Dr. Gallagher: Ky?

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosenbaum: My break is over. Got to go

  Dr. Gallagher: Can I call you later?

  I sit for five more minutes with the phone in my hand until my vision isn’t so blurry anymore. Then I slide it in my purse and go back inside.

  * * *

  I don’t have to be Charlotte’s shadow by Tuesday afternoon. It’s too warm back by the kitchen, so I stay out front, refilling Mr. Henderson’s cup of coffee for the fourth time and cleaning off the red vinyl seats until they’re squeaky. The sun has come around so now the whole counter is bathed in bright light. Beyond the parking lot is nothing but dirt and fields, the occasional passing car, and an expanse of blue, cloudless sky.

  Blinding sunlight glints off a white pickup truck as it turns into the parking lot and takes a spot right in front.

  No.

  Eric and Wes hop out of the truck, wearing their snug jeans and dirty work boots, sleeves rolled up to their elbows—muscled forearms are swinging all over the place! Shitty-shit.

  I back away from the counter and hide behind the soda machine just as the metallic ting sounds and the door opens.

  Charlotte glances up from rolling silverware and, noticing me not at the counter, comes around front with a big smile.

  “Hey guys. Go ahead and take a seat anywhere.” She scans back around, finally seeing me behind the soda machine and gives me a curious look.

  I very clearly communicate to her with my anxious facial expression I don’t want to serve them, help me!

  I don’t know if she gets it. She hands them menus as they sit directly at the counter.

  “Is, um, is Kyla here?” Eric asks.

  My face warms.

  “Oh yeah, she’s right over—” Charlotte turns toward me with a helpful smile while I violently shake my head and wave my hands. Her smile falls and she tilts her head in confusion until I finally see the light bulb moment and she nods slowly.

  Eric and Wes both clearly witness this. But she turns to them anyhow with a cute, dimpled smile and says, “Actually, she’s on her break.”

  “We can wait.” Eric has a knowing smirk on his face which I simultaneously find infuriating and charming.

  While he’s looking down at his menu, I crouch down and scurry into the back where I’m completely hidden. If I peek around the corner, I can still just make them out.

  “Um, she’s actually running an errand for Colleen after her break, so she could be gone for an hour. Or two.” Nice save, Charlotte.

  “That’s too bad. We wanted to say hi,” Wes says sincerely.

  Eric stretches his neck, looking behind the counter toward the kitchen and then around to where I’m standing. I whip back around the corner just in time, my heart beating wildly.

  My phone buzzes in my purse in a nearby cubby.

  Dr. Gallagher: I know you’re here. Saw your car when we drove in.

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosenbaum: I’m busy

  Dr. Gallagher: I just want to talk to you and you’ve been ignoring my texts

  Kyla ‘dat ass’ Rosenbaum: You can’t just ambush me at work. I don’t want to talk. I want space.

  He hasn’t responded after a minute so I sneak another peek toward the counter. Wes is watching Charlotte intently as she talks about something exciting enough to warrant a lot of hand gestures.

  And Eric is sitting hunched over his phone, staring at the screen, his mouth downturned, his forehead wrinkled in distress. He runs his hands through his hair, ruining his swoop and making one half of it stick out in the wrong direction. He lets out a sigh then starts typing.

  I hold my breath as the little dots pop up on my screen.

  Dr. Gallagher: I wasn’t trying to bother you. I’m sorry.

  “Let’s go.” He slides off his stool and pats Wes on the back.

  Wes reluctantly ends his conversation with Charlotte. He puts his hat on, tipping it toward her, then follows Eric out the door.

  “What was that about?” Charlotte asks after his truck pulls away.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it. Just stupid boy problem stuff.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I feel like an asshole, but I need to stay away from him right now. He turned me down, and I’m still a little bit humiliated, but I’m a big girl. He’s just not into me like that, and it’s fine. I can handle it. I’m not going to make a fool of myself—I will move on. But I need space from him to move on, and maybe, once this silly crush has passed, we can hang out again and be friends.

  Yes. I need space and time.

  But it still hurts when he stops texting.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Do you need me to run interference for you? Maybe make a strawberry shake?” Charlotte asks. Her mouth is in a stern little line, though she looks the exact opposite of intimidating.

  I glance up over the counter just as Wes walks in. He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers. I look past him and scan the parking lot for Eric. My heart picks up speed and I can’t describe the feeling that comes over me. I’m dreading the sight of him while simultaneously desperately longing for him to be here. But Wes is alone.

  “No, it’s fine. But thanks for the offer. Maybe make the strawberry shake
anyway. I’m kind of hungry.”

  Her laugh is a high-pitched, breathy tinkle as she swishes away in her poodle skirt.

  “Hey, Kyla.” Wes sets his hat down on the counter in front of me and hands me the bouquet. It’s a bundle of white daisies packed tightly together with sprigs of tiny purple flowers interspersed throughout.

  “They’re from Eric. He, uh, asked me to give them to you.” He scratches the back of his neck. “He said you two got into some type of disagreement.”

  “Something like that.” The flowers smell like heaven.

  He leans in and lowers his voice. “I don’t know what it’s about, he was pretty vague about it—just that he’s the one who messed up. He didn’t ask me to say this, but I really hope you’ll talk to him. He’s been upset all week.”

  Oh. “Um, yeah. I will. Thanks for bringing the flowers. You can tell him I think they’re really sweet.” Shit, I’m supposed to be trying to get over the crush, not exacerbating it. “Or don’t, actually. I’ll tell him myself, uh, when I talk to him.” Eventually.

  Charlotte’s slim wrist comes into view as she slides a large strawberry milkshake in front of me.

  “Just in case.” She winks.

  “Oh, hey, Charlotte.” Wes shifts on his feet as he nods to her, a big, bright smile overtaking his handsome face.

  Her eyes light up for a split second and she smiles. “Hi.” Then she immediately bites her lips as if just remembering she’s not supposed to smile. She glances away, her cheeks turning pink, and spots my flowers. “Do you want me to put these in some water for you?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  As she takes them, I spot the little white card. I take it and conceal it in my hand, squeezing it tight as she walks away. Someone else is definitely also noticing her walk away.

  “Do you think she’s cute?” I ask, not even lowering my voice.

  “Uh.” Wes straightens and turns away from where Charlotte is. He also averts his eyes from mine and doesn’t seem to know where to look or suddenly where to put his hands.

  I lean over the counter. “I think she’s cute. She’s also super sweet, and I kind of just want to put her in my pocket. You should ask her out.”