by Shandi Boyes
After kicking the hotel room door closed with my boot, I walk Emily to the king-size bed to place her down, our tongues dueling the entire time. Her chest rises and falls in a steady movement when I undo the latch on her boots before sliding down the hidden zipper. Although she’s clearly nervous, we’ve both wanted this for so long, excitement is far exceeding nerves.
I dump her boots on the ground before nudging my head to the pillow above her head. “Lie back.”
While she scoots up the mattress, I toe off my shoes then drag my shirt over my head. Emily has seen me naked a good dozen times the past three months, but she still drinks me in as if it is the first time.
Her appreciative gawk has my cock roaring to life. Things have always been crazy intense between us, sometimes a little too fast to be seen as more than lust, but what newly forming relationship isn’t? If you’re not attracted to the person you’re with, why are you with them? And if you didn’t have an instant fascination with them, how did your relationship get off the blocks?
Don’t get me wrong; I’m still skeptical about insta-love, but my stance lessens with every day I have with Emily. Even before we become an official couple, she was on my mind, so imagine how bad it became once she was my girl.
Eager to relieve the pain of my zipper biting my cock, I unbutton my jeans and slide down the zipper. The hissing of metal adds to the tension brimming between us, which lengthens my tease. Emily is glaring at my crotch, impatiently waiting for me to free my cock, but I can’t help teasing her. She hates waiting nearly as much as she hates being tickled.
“Noah...” She appears seconds from crawling across the mattress to help herself to me. “If you don’t hurry up—”
Her words falter when I tug down my jeans enough the cropped hairs across my pelvis peek out from my low-riding boxers. “Better?”
While Emily nods, her pupils dilating, my boxer shorts have a meeting with my jeans, which are huddled around my feet. My cock is as hard as the pining expression she’s giving me. I take it in my hand, giving it a long, determined stroke before jerking my chin up to the baggy jeans she’s wearing.
“Your turn.”
Precum wets the crest of my cock when her top is the first thing to go. Her vintage rock shirt is closely followed by the removal of her jeans. I tighten my grip on my shaft when it twitches. She dressed for the occasion, and I’m fucking ecstatic. Her bra and panties are like the pair she wore when we jumped off the cliff at Stony Creek Falls on our first date but fancier, with lace making up a majority of the design.
“Do you want to play around first?” I need her wet enough to take all of me, but I’m as impatient as fuck. The dampness of her panties won’t curb my eagerness. She’s drenched.
Emily shakes her head. “No. We’ve waited long enough. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” As predicted, she crawls across the mattress to add to her request without words, pulling me down until I’m lying on top of her. My cock creates delicious friction with her damp panties. "I want you, Noah. I want you so much."
Her eyes squeeze shut when I grind against her. I go extra slow, ensuring she knows we’re not fucking. We’re making love.
I suck her lips into my mouth before slipping my tongue between them. I kiss her like I wish I could her pussy. I want her juices on my chin, but not as badly as I’m dying to make her mine.
After a final drag of my tongue along the ridges of her mouth, I pull back and glance down at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation, her confirmation coming with a nod. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
Smiling, I nip at her lips, her budded nipple through her bra, and her stomach as I make my way to her panties. They’re lacy and completely soaked through. Although she said no to foreplay, I can’t hurt her. I need to make sure she’s fully prepared, so with that in mind, I slip her panties away before spearing my tongue through her seductive heat.
Fuck me.
Heaven. I must have died and gone to heaven.
It doesn’t take many lashes of my tongue to get her ready for me. She’s so wet, not only does my chin bear unmissable evidence, but Emily’s thighs are trembling.
Before crawling back up to her flushed face, I snag a condom from the many I hid in the drawer when preparing our room. Emily watches me roll it down my cock in revered silence as she licks her lips. She’s thirsty for my cock, but unlike the times I drive her home after our dates, she doesn’t want it between her pillowy lips.
Once everything is in place, I position myself between her splayed thighs. Fuck me, there aren’t any words to describe what I’m seeing. I’ve never seen her as beautiful as she is now, and I’ve often been caught staring in admiration.
I nestle my cock at the entrance of her pussy before returning my eyes to Emily’s flushed face. “Are you sure you’re sure?”
She hates that I’m double-checking, but I want to be sure she's not being coerced by smoke and mirrors. I want her to do this because she wants to, not because she feels forced.
When she nods for the second time, I spend the next several hours enjoying every delectable inch of her. It’s pure fucking heaven. Pert tits, a pussy that’s sweeter than honey, and eyes that see through to my soul. I couldn’t get better than this, and for the first time in my life, I feel lucky—almost at peace.
A couple of hours later, Emily rests her head on my chest so she can trace her finger on the outline of my tattoo. “Will you tell me about them?”
She knows I lost my brothers in unrelated incidents, but I’ve never talked about the event that led to their deaths.
Sensing my hesitation, she whispers, “Please,” before placing a kiss on Chris and Michael’s names integrated in my tattoo.
I roll onto my hip, hoping her blissed-filled eyes will lessen the pain I experience any time I share the story of how I lost two of the most incredible people I had ever met within years of each other.
“On the surface, my family looked like an ordinary family. In reality, we were far from it. My mom got pregnant with Chris when she was seventeen. Because she refused to have an abortion, and my grandparents wouldn’t allow her ‘bastard’ child in their house, she became homeless. My dad’s band was well known in its early days. He often shared stories about how they were offered a record deal worth thousands of dollars, but with my mom pregnant and homeless, he left his band to work at the local sawmill.” My thoughts drift to the sawdust-covered overalls still in my dad’s closet. It forces a smile onto my lips.
“For years, my parents appeared to have a perfect marriage. I joined the trio a couple of years later, making Chris a big brother and completing our family. Things were ideal, but when my dad’s band went on to have some minor success, his regret for leaving soon burned a hole into his soul.”
My smile slackens. “By the time I was in middle school, he had begun drinking heavily to drown his sorrows. He’d often come home late, collapse onto the sofa for a cat nap before going to work the next day. It didn’t take his bosses long to realize he was working drunk. They had no choice; they had to let him go. My parents had only been together for two months when she got pregnant, and although my dad would never admit it, everyone could tell he blamed my mom for forcing his decision to leave his band.”
When I stop to take a breath, Emily offers me an encouraging smile.
“Not long after my dad got fired, my mom got a job as a receptionist at the local doctor’s office. Her long hours meant we rarely saw her, so Chris and I were mainly raised by our dad. I don’t know whether Michael was conceived as an attempt to save their marriage, but he did make our family closer. Because of the age difference, Chris and I doted on him. He had the most inquisitive brown eyes that absorbed everything around him. My dad said that meant he was an old soul who had been here before.”
I lick my dry lips, praying a bit of moisture will help ease out my next set of words. “Although dad’s drinking improved after Michael was born, it was still rare to
see him without a beer in his hand. Because I had grown up around it, I didn’t know any different. I loved my dad, even though he was a drunk. He often came to Marcus’s house to help my band practice, and he even worked on a few tracks for some lyrics I had written down.”
The fractures in my heart are heard in my words. “One afternoon, a few months after my fifteenth birthday, a huge storm rolled in. Usually, I'd walk home after rehearsals, but because it was pouring rain, and I had borrowed my dad’s pride and joy, his vintage Gibson guitar, I called the house hoping Chris could pick me up. Chris had already left for work, so my dad offered to get me. I had grown up most of my life with an alcoholic father, so I didn’t think about him driving drunk.”
I peer up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly in hopes it will stop tears from forming in my eyes. “I was waiting for him at the front of Marcus’s house when a massive bang boomed into my ears. I dropped my dad’s guitar case and ran into the street. I had only sprinted a few yards down when I saw a mangled mess of metal and broken glass. It was my parents’ van. As I sprinted toward the wreckage, I witnessed my dad climbing out of the driver’s side window. He was dazed and confused, but relatively unharmed.”
My words choke when I force them out of my mouth. “My heart stopped beating when he yelled out Michael’s name while yanking on the crumpled rear driver’s side door. I ran to his side, fruitlessly trying to help him free Michael from the wreckage, but that side of his car had so much damage, the door wouldn’t budge. I screamed Michael’s name over and over again, hoping he'd say something back. If he had made some kind of noise, I would have known he was okay.” I shake my head. “He never made a sound.”
Emily burrows her face into my chest, her lips quivering.
“A few minutes later, the fire department freed Michael from the wreckage with the jaws of life. When they pulled him out of the car to perform CPR on him, he was limp and lifeless. I knew he was gone the instant they shined the light into his eyes. All the spark they’d held had vanished. The police report said my dad lost control of his vehicle in the heavy rain. He veered into oncoming traffic before colliding with a van on the opposite side of the road. Michael was killed on impact. He was only four years old.”
I try to regather my composure by taking several long, ragged breaths. The memories of that day are still so raw for me. Even though it happened six years ago, and my nightmares have lessened, that day will forever haunt me.
I continue before I lose my nerve. “Michael usually had preschool on Thursdays. My mom picked him up on her way home from work. I had left for school that day not knowing he’d been up most of the night with a fever, so he stayed home with dad. If I had known he was going to be in the car, I would have never accepted my dad’s offer to pick me up. I would have walked in the rain or waited for the storm to pass, but I didn’t know... honestly, I didn’t know he was in the car.”
My hand flies across my cheek, wiping away a rogue tear before Emily notices it.
"My mom was brought to the hospital by a local police officer. When she saw me lingering at the side of the emergency department, she stormed over and slapped me hard across my face. I knew then and there that she'd never forgive me for asking my dad for a ride that day. If I had just walked home, both Michael and Chris would still be here—"
“No, Noah, no. You are not to blame for his death.” Emily cups my cheek with her hand, the truth in her eyes easing the pain shredding through my heart. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all.”
I want to believe her, but I can’t. I am partially to blame for what happened that day. My dad was charged with operating a motor vehicle while intoxicated. His blood alcohol level was five times over the legal limit. He pleaded guilty to all charges and was given a ten-year sentence at the Parkwood State Prison.
My sentence was much more severe. Even now, with my girl in my arms and my heart the fullest it’s ever been, I can’t help but wonder how much longer it will be before I lose everything again. I can only hope paranoia is fueling my worry, because I barely survived losing Chris and Michael. I won’t survive that type of loss a third time around.
Chapter 17
Emily
“Where do you want this box?”
Jacob walks into my dorm room, juggling a box marked with “lingerie and sex toys.” Noah thought he was hilarious when he labeled my box of books with that. He knew Jacob was helping me move this weekend, so he picked the heaviest box, hoping he’d fool Jacob into believing he has a massive selection of sex toys at his disposal.
Our relationship has undoubtedly increased its heat level the past three months, but the only toys at Noah's disposal are the ones attached to his body. If I had to explain our relationship with two words, I would say: mesmerizingly perfect. Take our immediate connection the night we met, multiply it by a hundred, then you'll be within ten percent of how sparking things have become between us. Noah is affectionate, sweet, protective, and has me one hundred percent convinced the only slimy thing about him is his sweaty hair when he finishes wooing his fans on stage.
A smile creeps across my face when Jacob asks, “What the hell have you got in here, Em? It weighs a ton.”
Noah slaps down the flap of the box a mere second before Jacob peeks inside. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”
He yanks the box out of Jacob’s grip, causing him to chuckle. “Come on, man, don’t be a tease.”
Stealing Noah’s chance to reply, Jacob heads back to his car to collect the remaining two boxes. My pulse quickens when his departure coincides with Noah strolling toward me. He drops the box onto my desk before curling his hands around my jaw. My thighs press together as his lips arrow toward mine. He kisses the living shit out of me, leaving no doubt that I’ve been on his mind all day. I pout when he withdraws from our embrace way before I’ve had my fill. We’ve been apart for over eight hours today, which is the longest since summer break started.
As Noah peers at me with confident, cocky eyes, I drink in all his gorgeous features. His dark, stormy eyes, the beautiful dimples he flashes as he smiles his panty-dropping grin, and the plumpness of his kiss-swollen lips. My god, he's handsome—and entirely mine.
“I missed you so much, Beautiful.” His frisky wink makes my panties wet. “Are you moving in okay?”
He takes in the minuscule dorm room Jacob and I have been moving me into the past four hours. Although nervous, I'm excited to begin my studies at Parkwood State College. I initially planned to attend Columbus University, but being eight hours away from Noah was more than I could bear, so I chose Parkwood instead. Our commute is still an hour, but I’ll see Noah every weekend instead of the six-week blocks we were looking at.
I follow Noah’s gaze around my damp-smelling room. “We’re getting there... slowly.”
My room is extremely bland. Two full-size beds take up one wall, separated by a bench desk that looks suitable for dual occupants. The light gray walls haven’t seen a coat of paint in years, and there’s a funky smell in the air, but mercifully, I have a private bathroom, meaning I won’t need to use the communal showers down the hall.
Although I would have loved a private room off-campus, my budget doesn’t allow it. I’ll only sleep and study here, so this is more than adequate—even more so since we’re alone.
Noah grins when I tug him onto the bed we’re standing next to. "How was your meeting?"
For the past six months, we’ve spent every Sunday together, but we had to skip today because he had a meeting with some music executives interesting in signing Rise Up. Although I’m dying to hear how his meeting went, I have lost time to make up for.
“Hmmm. It was good.”
Noah’s moans vibrate my core when I suck, nibble, and kiss his neck. I feel their thrum when I straddle his lap. His cock is straining against the zipper in his jeans. He’s primed and ready to go.
We kiss for a few more moments before the number of clothes between us becomes annoying. After a final lick of hi
s lower lip, I fist his shirt to raise it over his head. With some assistance, I have him shirtless not even two seconds later.
The heat bristling between us turns scorching when I place feather-like kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and over his chest. I stop briefly to press my lips to Michael and Chris’s names inked on his chest before continuing my mission.
My lips rise against his skin when Noah's six-pack contracts with every kiss I place. I lavish each perfect bump before sliding my tongue down the thin seam of hairs running from his belly button to the crotch of his jeans.
With his eyes arrested on me, Noah props his arms behind his head, giving himself a prime spot to watch the show about to occur. He drinks in my dedication to his body with a patience he doesn't often have in the bedroom, and his watchful eye adds to the sticky situation between my legs.
While one hand fiddles with the button on his jeans, the other slides down his zipper. I’m about to free his cock from its tight restraints when a cough echoes into my room. "That was supposed to be my bed?"
When my head flings in the direction the amused voice came from, I spot a beautiful blonde standing in the doorway. Her hands are splayed across her hips, and she’s grinning broadly.
I gulp. I’ve been dying to meet my new roommate, but when the clock struck three, I assumed she wouldn’t turn up until Monday morning with the remaining freshmen.
Noah groans when I dive off my bed. I don't know if he’s devastated because our make-out session was interrupted, or because my knee got a little friendly with his groin during my dismount. I’d say it’s a bit of both.
Ignoring the wobble of my thighs, I head toward the blonde to offer an introduction. Although my strides are confident, I’m dying on the inside. Things could be worse. Imagine if she had arrived a few minutes later? "Sorry about... that.”
I can’t believe I’m meeting my roommate this way. Adjusting back to sharing a room will already be difficult, so I don’t need additional problems. Once the dust settles, we’ll have to work out how we’ll handle situations like this in the future. Surely I won’t be the only one wanting privacy? She’s incredibly beautiful, just in a wholesome, down to earth way that’s hard to explain.