To Be Your Only

by Rae Kennedy

  There’s an iciness in his voice I’ve never heard before as he touches my elbow and steers me toward the door.

  We walk to his house without speaking, our footsteps soft amongst the grass.

  He opens the door and lets me in, still no words, jaw still tight. As soon as he closes the door behind us, he rounds on me.

  “What the fuck, Kyla?”

  I cross my arms. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? We slept together and then you sneak away while I’m sleeping. Why?”

  “Um...” Where do I start?

  He looks at me expectantly. His arms aren’t crossed, but open toward me, his puppy-dog eyes asking for an answer.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Did you decide you’re done with me? You had me and now you’re bored and ready to move on that fast?” He takes a step closer.

  “What? No!”

  “What am I supposed to think? You left me. You ran away and then you stopped talking to me. The one thing I asked you not to do. I kept waiting for you to call or come over. No explanation or communication, no reply to my text. I need you to tell me why.”

  “When I woke up and realized what happened, I just sort of panicked and then I left and then my phone died—”

  “I don’t want excuses. You panicked? Explain.”

  Tears are pricking at my eyelids, threatening to choke my words. I try to push them back so I can speak.

  “I woke up so hungover...we had been so drunk...I shouldn’t have suggested...I promised you I wouldn’t...you wanted to wait...I pressured you...I’m horrible...I ruined it for you...” Once I start talking, I can’t stop. I don’t know if my word vomit is making sense. I’m not even sure what I’m saying.

  He steps closer so we’re only a few inches apart now. He touches my arm so I look at him and stop babbling. “Ky, slow down. What are you talking about?”

  I take a deep breath, relieved to realize I’m only sort of crying.

  “I ruined your first time. You wanted it to be special and instead, we were half-blacked-out and sloppy drunk. I know if you’d been sober you would’ve told me no. But I propositioned you. I took advantage of you when you were drunk and I’m so sorry. I feel so guilty.” I try to bury my face in my hands but he stops me.

  He takes me by both the shoulders. “Wait, what? You feel guilty because you ruined my first time?”

  I nod. “I was afraid you were going to be so mad when you woke up.”

  “Ky, the only thing I’m mad about is you leaving!”

  Right.

  I look up at him. “You’re not upset that I stole your special first time from you? You said you wanted to wait until the feelings were right—"

  “No. Kyla, no.” He’s rubbing up and down both arms now. “You’re special to me, that’s the only part that matters. And when I said I wanted the feelings to be right, I wasn’t talking about my feelings. I was talking about yours.”

  “My feelings?”

  He dries my face with his sleeve. “I just wanted to know you loved me back.”

  “Loved you back?” I hiccup. “Wait—you love me?”

  He lets out a sigh. “That was what I was trying to tell you last night. When I told you that you were the girl I’ve had feelings for. But I guess we got distracted. Kyla, I love you.”

  My heart stops. Straight-up stops beating for at least two seconds. And I’m not breathing. He loves me. He's just an inch away from me. His lips parted and soft. His gaze drifts to my mouth and my pulse increases in time with his quickening breaths.

  “You love me.” It’s not a question this time.

  He nods.

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  He smirks. “I knew it.”

  “You’re egotistical.”

  “I’m delightful.”

  “You’re exasperating.”

  “Endearing.”

  He leans in, his mouth turned in a lopsided smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “I think you’d better.”

  And he does, his lips on mine the perfect combination of gentle but needy, lustful but teasing. I wrap my arms around his neck as he backs me up against the wall. My legs go around his hips as we lick and lash at each other with our tongues. He kneads my behind as he holds me to him, grinding against me just enough to warm me between my legs, the ridge behind his zipper teasingly large.

  The latch to the door clicks. “Hey, I—ope.”

  We break the kiss, Eric straightening as we turn to see Gracie standing in the doorway. Along with a wide-eyed Bev, who is holding a plate of what appears to be a large slice of cherry pie.

  Cool. This is fine.

  I slide down Eric’s body as he lowers me to the floor, and we straighten our shirts as Bev and Gracie stare at us from the open door, frozen.

  “Um...” Gracie looks awkwardly between both of us.

  Bev clears her throat as she steps inside. “You left before dessert, so I wrapped some up to bring it to you.”

  Gracie smiles wide, holding up her phone. “I tried to call you,” she says between her teeth, shifting her eyes to Bev, who is placing the pie on the counter. “But she insisted.”

  “Phone’s dead,” I tell her.

  “Well, I just figured you’d want a piece,” Bev says, looking at Eric. “I know cherry is your favorite pie.”

  “Your favorite kind of pie is cherry?” I nudge him with my elbow and smirk his way. “I could have sworn it was something else.”

  He pinches the back of my arm as his cheeks flush and I bite back my smile.

  “I didn’t, um, know you were here also, Kyla. I only brought one piece. Would you like me to go grab you another? I’m happy to.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’m not really hungry. But thanks.”

  Eric puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

  Bev looks between us and smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “All right then, we’ll just leave you two, uh, alone. Come along, Gracie.”

  They shuffle out the door, Gracie turning back to grin mischievously and wink at us before leaving.

  “I guess we’ve been found out.”

  “Yep,” I agree.

  “Does that mean you’ll stay with me tonight?”

  My heart flutters in my chest. “Yes.”

  He tips my chin up with a finger. “Let me be more specific. Will you stay with me all night and into the morning until we both wake up?”

  I roll my eyes.

  * * *

  The marble is cool under my bare thighs as I sit on the counter in Eric’s kitchen. He’s standing between my spread legs in his gray sweats, shirtless.

  He groans and licks his lips. “Tastes so good.”

  He cradles the small plate of cherry pie close to his chest. With his fork, he breaks through the flaky crust and spears through two plump cherries, the red filling glistening around the berries.

  It smells sweet and buttery and my mouth waters.

  “Can I have some?” I make a move for his fork.

  He twists the plate away, holding it up just out of my reach. “Uh uh. You said you didn’t want any.”

  “I was just in a hurry to get you alone. There was no time for pie.”

  “There’s always time for pie.” He winks and I’m not sure which kind of pie he’s referring to. Probably both.

  I pout as he brings the forkful to his mouth. “Share! Please?”

  His lips twist into a smirk as he redirects the fork and feeds me the bite of pie. It’s sweet and tart, creamy and flaky, fresh, and still just a bit warm.

  “Wow, that is good.”

  He takes turns between eating the pie and giving me bites as I happily swing my legs.

  The slice is almost gone and as he eats his last bite—because I’m totally going to eat the rest myself—a little glob of cherry filling falls just past the corner of his m
outh. I take his chin and turn his face to lick it off.

  As my tongue glides over his skin and to his lips the plate and fork clank against the counter somewhere to my left and then Eric’s arms are around my back. He turns to suck my tongue into his mouth. Our kiss tastes sweet and earthy. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in closer and locking him against me.

  I love kissing him. I love touching him. I love how hard his body feels pressed to my soft one. I curl my fingers in his hair and kiss down the side of his jaw to the column of his throat as he rubs down my back and over my shorts to dig into the flesh of my thighs. I love how his skin smells and how his stubble is rough against my lips. His pulse is throbbing in his neck and I kiss him there. He’s mine.

  “I want to eat you.” His voice is hoarse as he nips at my ear.

  “Mm yes.”

  “And then I want to fuck you.”

  “Yes. I’ve wanted you to say those words all summer.”

  His hands are rougher as he squeezes my ass and hauls me off the counter. I cling to his neck, sinking my fingers into his shoulders as I kiss him deeply. He starts walking us to his bedroom when I straighten, breaking away.

  “Oh shit.”

  “What’s the matter?” His lips are swollen and pink, his breathing heavy.

  “Do you have condoms? We used all of mine last night.”

  “Damn. I don’t.” He kisses the length of my neck, still moving toward his bedroom. “It’s probably for the best. We still have some talking to do.”

  “We do?”

  “Yep.” He emphasizes the ‘p’ sound as he drops me on his bed.

  “About what?” I ask, bouncing on the soft covers.

  “Let’s start with you not talking to me.”

  “I wasn’t not talking to you. My phone died.”

  He rolls his eyes as he leans over and places his hands on either side of me, making the mattress dip. “If you’d wanted to talk to me, you wouldn’t have left me sleeping in the first place.”

  “Oh. Well, I—” There are a million excuses running through my head, so many reasons why I’d freaked out, why I’d assumed the worst, why I’d run away instead of facing him. But none of them matter. He matters. “I’m sorry.”

  He climbs on the bed next to me. “Do you not trust me?”

  “I do!”

  “I’m not sure if you do. Not completely, anyway. You didn’t trust that I wouldn’t get mad at you. What did you think—that I was going to break up with you?”

  “No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”

  He takes my hands. “Ky, I’m not going to leave you.”

  “Are you sure? How do you know? I’m very leave-able.”

  “Leave-able? I don’t think that’s a word.”

  “I’m easily left.” I shrug when he tilts his head in confusion. “My dad left. My mom leaves me daily. My grandpa left me long before his body did. I know it’s not the same, but even Gracie is leaving me. She left for school, then left for the summer, and now she’s moving to Chicago. All of my boyfriends walked away without being too upset. I'm fun in short bursts but hard to love for the long-haul. I’m easier to leave.”

  Eric pulls me to him, his hands going to my face, wiping at my cheeks but I don’t think I’m crying. Am I?

  “Ky, now that I have you, losing you would tear my heart out.” He touches his nose to mine, looking deep into my eyes.

  “Really?” I whisper.

  He nods. “And I’m not about to let that happen. I meant it when I said you’re stuck with me.”

  I smile as my eyes water. Dammit, I am fucking crying.

  “Anyway, I’m pretty sure you were the one that did the walking away from most of your boyfriends.”

  He’s right. “If things didn’t seem to be clicking just right, I’d end it before he got the chance. Seemed easier for both of us.”

  Gracie was right. I do sabotage myself, my relationships. If I don’t get too invested, then it won’t hurt so much when it inevitably ends.

  “I’m not going to be that easy to get rid of. I won’t let you pull away from me. That’s why I want you to talk to me when you feel like running away.” He’s speaking softly, rubbing small circles on my arms.

  “I'll talk to you. Always. I promise.”

  “Hmm.” He pulls me close again, brushing his lips against my cheek. “I made you promise me last time and you broke that promise. Who’s to say you won’t just do it again?”

  I shake my head. “I won’t.”

  I pull back to look at his face, but he’s not upset, there’s no mistaking the devious glint in his eyes.

  “What should we do to make sure you don’t break your promise again?” he asks with a devilish smirk. “Should I punish you?”

  “Um, what do you mean?”

  “I think I should.”

  My eyes widen.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I swallow hard but I’m nodding, my cheeks heating.

  “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

  CHAPTER 31

  He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I strip down, his gaze more and more heated. His lips are parted and eyes hooded as he watches my panties fall to the floor around my feet.

  “Get on the bed.”

  I bite my lip, not sure where this is going. But I do trust him. I climb on the bed in front of him, the dangerous look on his face heightening my excitement.

  “On your hands and knees.”

  I get on my hands and knees and start to crawl closer.

  “No, other way, turn around.”

  I turn around so that my rear is to him and peer over my shoulder. He looks wicked as he takes off his shirt and throws it to the floor, but he leaves his sweats on and comes up behind me.

  His hand is warm and gentle as it slides over my back and up to my shoulders. He applies just a little pressure.

  “Down on your elbows, Rosenbaum. Head down too.”

  I drop to my elbows so now my ass is up in the air and my face turned, cheek pressed to the sheets.

  “Spread wider for me.” His voice is low. Deep. Giving me chill bumps.

  I slide my knees farther apart, my heart starting to speed up. He’s got a perfect view of my ass and pussy from behind, just the thought makes me tingle. His hands are still on my back and they brush down my sides to my hips, over the swells of my behind and down my thighs. I try to watch him but I can’t make out much from down here.

  He massages my butt and then he slaps it. One side and then the other. Not too hard, but enough to give me a jolt.

  I can’t help it. I start giggling.

  “Are you laughing?”

  “Are you spanking me?”

  “Yes.”

  I laugh some more. He bends down and looks at me with knitted brows from between my legs.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, still giggling. “But I didn’t realize I’d entered into a BDSM relationship. I hate to break it to you, but if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m not particularly submissive.”

  That earns me another whack on the ass. It’s a little harder than the last two, but he’s smiling at me through my legs.

  “I’m not particularly dominant,” he says with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. We can switch, take turns. Give as good as you can take, remember?”

  “Hmm. Take and give? I kind of like the idea of you being a bottom.” I smirk at him.

  “If it’s with you, I think I’d be open to the idea,” he whispers against my thigh, dragging his lips along my skin.

  Mental note—buy that damn strap-on I’ve been eyeing.

  He gets back up to his knees so I can’t see him anymore, but then his hands are back on my rear, rubbing and massaging, soothing away any soreness, it feels really nice even though the spanks didn’t hurt at all.

  His fingertips sweep lightly down along my slit and I close my eyes, enjoying his attention.

  The smack on my pussy is hard. It takes me by surprise, and I yelp at
the sudden pain and instant sting. I’m about to cuss him out, but the sensation that follows stops me. As the sting fades, heat rushes to the spot, warming my skin and making my pussy throb in the most delicious way.

  His fingertip is back tracing the seam of my pussy lips, this time slipping between where I’m wet for him.

  “I think you liked that,” he says low.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  He moves in, licking me all the way from clit to ass in one hot, wet stroke and then he grabs my hips and flips me over onto my back. The tip of his cock is poking out from his sweats and the sight makes me wetter.

  “Do you want more?” he asks.

  I nod, licking my lips.

  He pulls my legs wide and slaps my pussy again. And again. The sting burns and then thrums in pleasure as my center is flooded with more heat, more liquid. I look between my legs and I’m swollen and pink. My clit is aching with need.

  “Harder,” I beg.

  He spreads me with his fingers and lands a quick strike right to my clit. The sharp twinge of pain instantly recedes as my clit pulses hot and hard. He’s still spreading me apart and it’s easy to see how engorged and red it is. My cheeks are hot, my nipples hard, breasts heaving as my breaths come faster.

  Without warning he dives down to suck on my erect little clit, and he doesn’t let up his licking and sucking until he rips a strangled orgasm from my convulsing body. It’s maybe the hardest and fastest I’ve come.

  He smiles when he’s done, his lips puffy as he crawls up to me. The entire head of his cock is straining past his waistband now, wet and shiny.

  I’m about to tell him to climb onto my chest and fuck my face, but he kisses me hard on the mouth instead.

  “I love you,” he tells me between kisses. “I love you. I love you.”

  I rake my fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer and devouring his kiss, reveling in our tongues’ mating.

  “I love you, too,” I pant.

  I’m lost in the sensations of our kiss, how we move in tandem, our breaths in rhythm. I am at once weightless, floating in a haze of lust and love, warm and safe, and also frantic, needy, wanting more of him. More of his hot skin on me, more of his scent on me, more of him.

  I moan through our kiss as I take his tongue deeper in my mouth and drag my hands down to fumble with his sweatpants. I manage to push them down over his ass and take his hard, impossibly thick cock in my fist. I start to squeeze when I realize he’s shaking.