The Way We Are

by Shandi Boyes

  Her confession knocks me even harder than my worry I was forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to do. Not the part about my endowment; the little comments she released between sucks leaves no doubt she's impressed with the size of my dick. It's the virgin part winding me.

  My eyes dance between Savannah’s as my brain seeks something appropriate to say. It's a long and torturous thirty seconds.

  “I know what you’re thinking, that I’ve been with Axel for over a year, and you’re certain we’ve done it.”

  That isn’t even close to what I am thinking, but with my stupid-ass mouth refusing to work, I can’t articulate that.

  “But we haven’t. I wouldn’t do that with him. I couldn’t do that to you. I wanted my first time to be special, with someone I love. Axel isn’t that man. He isn’t even close to that man. He isn’t you—”

  Her words stop when I seal my mouth over hers, halting her blubbering with a lash of my tongue. I kiss her until the worry clouding her lifts, and the sentiment in the air has returned to lust.

  I kiss her until there’s not an ounce of air between us.

  I kiss her until the crest of my dick is lined up at the entrance of her pussy.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her, glancing down at her stunning face.

  “Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “Just don’t let me drown, Ryan.”

  I laugh, loving that her playful comment instantly cleared the niggle in my back of my mind that she’s about to see me as a pansy.

  “You’re not the only one stumbling into foreign waters,” I admit, annoyed my voice relays my lack of confidence.

  I wanted it to come out confident, proving I’ve got the knowledge to rock her world even though I don’t have a fucking clue what I am doing. It didn’t sound half as confident as I wanted it to.

  Savannah cocks her head to the side and arches her brow. “You’re a ... You haven’t... You’re like me?” she settles on, incapable of saying the word “virgin” for the second time today.

  The event is nearly over before it begins when Savannah’s smiles a grin I’ve never seen when I nod my head.

  It's a smile that would make grown men fall to their knees and virgin teens cum in their pants.

  It's a smile that will devastate every smile to follow.

  It's a smile that reveals what I’ve always wanted to shout from the rooftops.

  She's my girl.

  30

  Ryan

  The mattress dipping beneath my naked form wakes me from my slumbering state.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. I didn’t want to wake you, but your stomach won’t quit growling, so I thought I better feed you.”

  Savannah runs one hand through my messy bedhead while nudging her head to the bologna sandwich in her other hand. Since she's wearing one of my short-sleeve shirts, her luscious thighs are on display for the world to see.

  My stomach growls. Its grumble has nothing to do with food.

  Upon hearing its deep rumble, Savannah places the sandwich onto the pillow next to my head. My brows furl when I notice the messy job she did with the mayonnaise.

  “Damon’s not the best sandwich maker, but he did okay,” Savannah says through a giggle, spotting my mortified expression.

  My bewilderment grows. “Damon made me a sandwich?”

  When Savannah nods, I ask, “Did you check it for spit?”

  Her halfhearted giggle turns into a full laugh. “I told him it was for me, so he better not have spat in it.”

  She moves the sandwich out of the way so I can rise to a seated position. She's quick, but I don’t miss the inhalation of air she intakes when the thin sheets on my bed do a bad job hiding the outline of my dick.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask, accepting the sandwich from her grasp, suddenly starving. I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, so the response of my body isn’t odd.

  Savannah’s teeth graze her bottom lip before she replies, “I’m good.” Her button nose screws up when she grimaces. “A little sore, but good.” She locks her eyes with mine. “What about you?”

  “I’m fucking awesome,” I reply, my voice laced with the confidence I was missing a few hours ago.

  I may not have had a clue what I was doing hours ago, but I’m certain I knocked it out of the park. The first ten minutes were a little uncomfortable. Ensuring I wasn’t hurting Savannah while actually hurting her fucked my mind bigtime. But once the initial discomfort wore off, and our natural connection rolled out in abundance, things progressed very well—twice.

  “If you don’t get your eyes off my dick, my cravings won’t get satisfied. Well, not with food anyway.”

  Savannah’s eyes rocket to mine as her throat works hard to swallow. “You can seriously go again?”

  I praise the Lord for my youth when my dick rises to the occasion for the fourth time in one day. The huskiness of her voice is enough to harden any man.

  “Oh good lord,” Savannah mumbles, reflecting my exact sentiments.

  When I scoot closer to her, she slaps my bare chest with the back of her hand. “Eat,” she demands, glaring down at my sandwich. “Then we’ll play.”

  Too turned on by the promise in her last words, I fold the sandwich in half, then stuff it into my mouth in one go.

  “You’re disgusting,” Savannah chastises between giggles.

  “And you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” I babble through a mouth full of bread, meat, and mayonnaise.

  I swipe Savannah’s wrists out from underneath her, sending her tumbling to the mattress. My manhandling sounds rough, but my bedding and arms soften her fall. I’d never hurt her—not in a million years.

  “Kiss me,” I demand, narrowing my mouth toward hers.

  “No way,” Savannah squeals, as disapproving of my tickle of her ribs as much as she is my poor manners. “Your sandwich doesn’t have cheese. No one eats a bologna sandwich without cheese.”

  “I do.” My words are short, choked through the bread sliding down my throat. I really should have chewed it a few times before swallowing it.

  “Yeah, but you’re just weird. No one sane hates cheese.”

  I tickle her ribs again, relishing her playfulness. I’m glad nothing changed when we stamped each other’s V-cards. We are as much friends as we are lovers.

  “Kiss me,” I demand again, dragging my nose down her inflamed cheek to relish her rose scent. She smells different than she did earlier today. She still has a strong floral scent, but she also smells like me. I’d be a liar if I said that doesn’t make me want to bang my chest like some sort of macho man.

  Strands of golden hair fall into Savannah’s face when she shakes her head, denying my request. I know she's only teasing me, as she is loving the chase as much as I am loving the opportunity to chase her. Finally.

  “Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me,” I demand on repeat, each request met with the lash of my tongue on her pouty lips. I downed my sandwich so fast, it now sits like a rock in my stomach, matching the hardness pressing into Savannah’s thigh.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, Ryan,” Savannah whispers, her voice ball-clenchingly sweet. “But you can kiss me anytime you like,” she adds on, her voice lowering to include the promise of her words.

  She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

  Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I slowly inch our mouths together. I’m dying to taste her again, but I can’t help but tease her a little for her delay in answering my request. Savannah arches her back, smashing our lips together with so much violence, our teeth clang.

  “Careful,” I murmur against her mouth.

  After checking she didn’t cause herself any damage, I seal my lips over hers for real.

  I’ve hardly had the chance to sample the unique palette of her minty-fresh mouth when a loud, angry roar sounds through my ears.

  Fuck, not again.

  Leaning back, I prick my ears, anticipating more shouting to follow the first lot of mumbled screams. I�
��m not left waiting for long. A deep male voice booms into my ears two seconds later, but there's just one difference. It isn’t the voice I expect. This angry grumble doesn’t belong to my father. It belongs to Axel.

  “Savannah!!” he screams at the top of his lungs.

  I hear my mom deny that Savannah is here, but he doesn’t believe a word. He continues shouting Savannah’s name before adding demands to his manic behavior.

  “Where is she? I know she's here! I’m not leaving until I speak with her. Savannah!!”

  The color drains from Savannah’s face, her rosy cheeks turning ghostlike. “I have to go, Ryan. If he sees me here... oh god... if he finds out what we did...”

  I carefully clutch the top of her arms, drawing her focus to me. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. I’ll never let him touch you again, much less hurt you.”

  Although gratitude forms in Savannah’s eyes, tears still glide down her cheeks. “It isn’t me I’m worried about. It is the people around me he will hurt in retaliation for my betrayal.”

  Stealing my chance to reply, she slides off the bed to gather her clothes off the floor. The panic etched on her beautiful face grows when she realizes she doesn’t have any of her clothes in my room. She arrived wearing mine, and the ones she left here when she was younger are two sizes too small.

  Savannah stops shoving her legs into my black trousers when I ask, “Your dad? You’re worried about what will happen to your dad if Axel finds out about us?”

  Her chin quivers as she decides whether to tell me the truth or not.

  I’m so grateful when she takes the honesty route, even with Axel still shouting her name like a madman.

  “He’s sick, Ryan. He’s so sick. If Axel finds out about us, he’ll ruin everything. He’ll tell his uncle everything. That will kill my dad. If they find out what I’ve done... oh god...” I can’t hear anything she's saying through her tears.

  I want to pull her into my arms and promise everything will be okay, but since I can hear someone climbing the stairs at a frantic pace, I hold back my desires—barely!

  “Meet me at the tree you wrote about in your letter,” I request, my words as full of turmoil as her beautiful eyes.

  The thrusting of her chest turns manic. “You read my letter?”

  When I nod she blubbers, “When?”

  Gratitude tightens across my torso, glad that even riddled with turmoil, she still has time to worry about me. “A few months ago,” I answer while moving to my closet to find the gym shirt she lent me months ago.

  I find her shirt at the exact time a loud bash shakes the wood on my bedroom door.

  “Savannah. I know you’re in there!” Axel screams, his loud voice barely heard over his frantic thumps on my door. “Open the door, Savannah. We had a deal.”

  The way he slurs Savannah’s name, it’s obvious an excessive amount of alcohol is fueling his manic behavior, let alone the fact he has said it over twenty times since he arrived.

  After throwing my shirt over Savannah’s head, I drop my hands to my belt circling her waist. “It’s going to be okay,” I promise, guiding her to my window.

  She nods, signifying she heard my whispered comment before throwing on her shoes. My heart rate jumps into an unnatural rhythm when she starts climbing out my window. It matches the frantic pace at which Axel is banging on my bedroom door.

  “Ryan,” Savannah whispers, dragging my focus from my door, which is splintering under the force of Axel’s fists, to her. Her voice is so low, I’m not even sure she said my name... until she mouths, “I love you.”

  I don’t have the chance to reply to her declaration of love when my bedroom door suddenly flings open, the old lock no match for Axel’s stomping boots. With my heart in my throat, my eyes rocket back to my window. I inhale a grateful breath when Savannah is nowhere to be seen.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I ask Axel, covering my crotch with one hand while using the other to remove the sleep from my eyes, pretending his abrupt entrance just woke me.

  He ignores my question, his focus too fixated on seeking Savannah in my room. When he fails to find any sign of her in the main area, he sprints into my attached bathroom. While he yanks open the shower curtain to ensure Savannah isn’t hiding behind it, I take advantage of his distraction to put on some pants and kick the open condom box under my bed.

  “Where is she, Ryan? I know she's here!” Axel says, pacing back into my room.

  “You know who is here?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

  “Don’t act fucking stupid. I know she's here...” The arrogance in his eyes triples, “... because your father told me she’s here.”

  My eyes snap to the hallway when I hear my mom whisper, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

  The chance of my father ever gaining my respect is lost when I find him standing in the hallway next to my mom. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his lips are hard-lined, proving what Axel said is true. He let a madman storm into my room without any concern for my safety. That's fucking bullshit. He isn’t just risking my life. He's risking Savannah’s as well.

  Incapable of ignoring the wrath of my scorn for a second longer, my father grumbles something about staying one step ahead of the pack before he pivots on his heels and leaves my doorway. My mom follows after him—like she always does.

  I swallow to relieve the dryness of my throat before returning my focus to Axel. “How much did your stupidity cost you?”

  When Axel remains quiet, confused by my question, I clarify, “Everyone in this town knows you’re obsessed with Savannah. Even the town drunk. So, how much did you pay him to find out where she supposedly is?”

  While Axel takes a moment to process my question, I take stock of how dilated his eyes are. They are so large, I highly doubt they aren’t chemically induced. He isn’t just drunk; he's as high as a kite. That pisses me off even more.

  “Did my dad give you a name? Or just an address? Which just happens to be the only address his drunk mind can remember.”

  Axel’s fingers rake his messy hair as he murmurs a curse word under his breath. “Your dad owes me five hundred dollars,” he slurs, his temper growing as rapidly as mine.

  I laugh, playing along that my dad just played him for a fool. “The last time I saw Savannah she was lying in the hospital bed you put her in. Did you look there before you came storming into my room, waking me?”

  Axel steps closer to me. “Don’t get smart with me, boy—”

  “Boy? You’re calling me a boy. You were so concerned about yourself last night, you left Savannah to die! Your own girlfriend. You left!” Spit flies out of my mouth and lands on his face during my last sentence. “There's only one fucking boy in this room, Axel, and it sure as hell ain’t me.”

  Although I had no intentions of bringing up last night until I had time to formulate a plan, my anger has gotten the better of me.

  “You should be grateful if Savannah ever speaks to you again, because I can sure as hell tell you I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure she sees you for the weasel of a man you are. By the time I’ve finished wiping you from her memory bank, she won’t even remember your name. Axel? Axel-fucking-who?”

  Axel looks two seconds from decking me, but before he gets the chance, I cut him down in a way he never sees coming. “What’s your uncle going to say when he discovers what you’ve been hiding from him?”

  A blaze of panic scorches Axel’s eyes for the quickest second before he feigns ignorance.

  It's a pity I wasn’t born last week.

  “I’ve seen your uncle in action. I’m fairly confident he won’t be impressed when he discovers you aided in the theft of three million of his dollars.”

  “I didn’t steal anything,” Axel replies, his voice drenched with panic.

  “No. But you helped hide it. To Col, that’s just as bad.”

  I’m throwing darts blindly, hoping one will hit. I have no clue how Col Petretti will re
act to my discovery, but it's highly unlikely he will respond positively.

  I hit the bullseye when Axel says, “We’ve nearly paid it all back. We don’t owe much more.”

  His reply stumps me, but it doesn’t stop me from asking, “How much?”

  Hearing the eagerness in my voice, Axel’s eyes snap to mine. “Way more than you’ll ever have.”

  “How much?” I ask again, knowing I’ll do everything in my power to weaken the hold he has over Savannah, while also praying I have enough stashed to repay the amount owed.

  My hopes are left for dust when Axel replies, “A little over two hundred thousand.”

  “Whoa. What? Fuck.” My shock has turned me into a speechless idiot.

  Although it's more than I have, I’m still stunned by the amount. That’s way less than I calculated earlier today. Way way less. If Savannah’s mother did steal the three million dollars two years ago, how is it possible Savannah has repaid so much in such a short period of time? With her father’s disease rendering him unable to work, I doubt she has access to that kind of money.

  Like a freight train smacking into me, reality dawns: Savannah’s house isn’t undergoing refurbishment; she sold all their belongings to repay her mother’s debt. This wouldn’t be the first time she has placed her needs last. She will never admit it, but I’m certain the time I spotted her handing my mom a sneaky twenty years ago wasn’t the first. She sold her retro Barbie dolls with the hope I could escape my life, so who’s to say she didn’t do the same thing for her mom?

  I’m drawn away from my shock when Axel asks, “Do you have a spare 200K sitting around, Ryan?” His voice is the regular pompous-ass one he frequently utilizes.

  I swallow the brick in my throat before answering, “No. But I can get it.”

  Axel laughs, seemingly amused.

  “You’ll get it?” he quotes when my sideways glare halts his laughter. “This isn’t fucking Kansas, Golden Boy. Even if you were lucky to pick up a fight or two every week, it will still take you six months to repay Savannah’s debt. That means she still has six months remaining on our agreement.”