A Kiss For You

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I’d been diddled by Diddle.

  I giggled at the thought of that and the fact that I was slung over his bohunk shoulder as he carried me down a hallway and into what I assumed was his bedroom.

  He kicked the door closed behind us, and with his big arms wrapped around my legs, he tilted, dumping me on the bed with a bounce.

  I watched him walk around the room, clicking on a couple of lights, as I stared at his face, looking for the kid I had known in high school. Rodney was my ex-boyfriend — the last boyfriend. And Diddle — Bodie — and his brother, Dee Dee, were always hanging around Rodney’s band practices or at his house. I couldn’t connect the dots that they were the same person.

  When he reached back to grab a handful of his shirt and yank it off, I quit caring.

  He had muscles on top of muscles, his arms touched with ink here and there. I itched to get a closer look. But that could wait. There were other things I needed a closer look at first.

  I sat up as he walked to the bed, and I moved to the edge, parting my legs. My eyes were on his — his were between my legs.

  His cock was right in front of me, tethered by his jeans, though I could see the bulging outline of it like a beast. I bit my lip and unfastened his belt with a clink, unbuttoned his pants with a soft pop, and dropped his zipper with a buzz I felt all the way up to my elbow.

  He wasn’t wearing underwear.

  The sight of the tight skin so low on his stomach, the V of his hips, the shape of his cock still tucked into his pants — all of it hit me with a shock that hit me straight between the legs, so I reached out and freed him, leaving my fist closed around his base.

  The head was the same dusty pink as his luscious lips, and I smiled, my pulse picking up and tongue sweeping my bottom lip, as I leaned forward and placed the silky-soft crown in my mouth.

  Bodie hissed, his hands slipping through my hair as I grabbed his ass, pulling him to me as I leaned into him, taking him as deep as I could, which was deep. Perks of not having a gag reflex.

  “Fuck, Penny,” he whispered, his fingers tightening, pulling my hair just enough to sting.

  I let his base go so I could grab his ass with both hands, guiding him, and he matched the rhythm with his hands in my hair, pushing me farther as my throat relaxed, his cock rock hard in my mouth.

  He pulled out with a pop, and before I knew what was going on, his hands were on my face, his lips against mine, his tongue deep in my mouth, like he was trying to taste where he’d been.

  “When I come,” he whispered against my lips, “it’s going to be inside you. Now, take your clothes off, Penny.”

  My heart thudded against my ribs as he backed away. I didn’t have much on, just the bustier and my wedges, so I stood, smiling as I turned my back to him and folded over at the waist, unbuckling one shoe, then the other. When I peeked at him through my hair, his jeans were hanging off his hips, his hand was rolling a condom onto his cock, and his lips were pinned between his teeth, the line of his jaw hard and his eyes locked between my legs.

  I turned around to face him and unhooked the corseted bustier one blessed hook at a time before letting it fall to the floor.

  His eyes raked over my body for a long moment before he rushed me, grabbing me around the waist, and we tumbled into bed together as our lips connected. He nestled between my legs, and my arms wound around his neck, my legs around his waist. And when he shifted his hips, I felt the tip of him press against the center of me.

  “Oh God, Bodie,” I breathed. “Get your fucking pants off.”

  I scrabbled for his jeans that hung half off his ass, sliding them down enough to hook my foot in the crotch to push them the rest of the way until he was blissfully naked and lying on top of me.

  He hummed against my neck, teasing me, as he moved down my body to my breasts. For a long minute, he cupped one, closing his lips over my tight nipple, sliding the barbell back and forth with his tongue, the sensation sending a pulse directly to my aching clit.

  “Fuck, Bodie. Please.”

  He ran his teeth across the tip of my nipple, sending another shock down my spine as he brought his body to mine. And, when he pressed his wide crown against me, my breath froze in my lungs.

  He propped himself up, his lids heavy. And when he moved, when he filled me up until he couldn’t get any deeper, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

  His hips rolled like he knew my body, rocking against my piercing exactly where I needed, pressing against my clit, hitting me in the perfect spot, inside and out, with every pump of his hips. He stayed propped up, somehow maintaining his cool while I wriggled underneath him like my body wasn’t my own.

  With every slow wave of his body, I lost my mind a little more with no idea what to do with myself. The whole thing happened in bursts — his hand on my breast, kneading and toying with my nipple ring; his thighs pushing my legs open wider so he could get deeper; his lips on mine, not that I could kiss him back. Because I felt the orgasm building, the heat of it deep inside me, spreading through me, and when he took my nipple between his teeth and hummed, my body didn’t know what else to do but explode. My heart, my legs, my arms, my pussy — everything flew apart and back together, pulsing and squeezing as I breathed his name on a loop.

  I barely registered him coming — I was too high from what he’d done to me — but I could feel his fingers in my hair, the sting as he pulled, exposing my neck, making a space to bury his head as his body rocked, slamming into me with a guttural noise that made what was left of my insides turn into mush.

  All I could hear was my panting and the thundering of my heart in my ears, a steady da-dum that matched the feeling of Bodie’s heartbeat against my breasts. I was surrounded by him — his arms bracketing my head, his face in the curve of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, his body pressing me into the bed — and it was absolutely and utterly glorious.

  It was the feeling I lived for, everything I wanted. Who needed love when you could just have the good? The rush, the easy rightness of being together without demand? Love only complicated things, weighing down the good until the high was gone. I never wanted the high to end.

  After a little while, he shifted his face to kiss my neck, sending a warm tingle up to my ear and down to my nipple like some sort of sorcery. I smiled out of sheer instinct from the sensation, bending my neck to press my cheek to his head.

  “Mmm,” he rumbled.

  I clenched around him, still inside of me, and he twitched in answer.

  “Seriously, where have you been hiding?” My voice was rough and lazy against his ear.

  Bodie kissed my skin again. “LA. I’ve only been here a week.”

  He twisted, rolling us onto our sides so he could pull out, leaving me empty. I didn’t like it, not one bit.

  “What brought you?” I asked, propping my head on my hand to admire his back as he turned away.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned himself up. “I got laid off.”

  “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

  He smiled over his shoulder at me. “Don’t be. That just made the move about a hundred times more worthwhile.”

  I smirked as he lay back down next to me, mirroring my posture. “So, what did you do?”

  “I was a software engineer for a start-up that was bought out. They canned all of us and replaced us with their own people.”

  I chuckled, my eyes raking over his gorgeous face, his massive body. “You don’t look like a computer geek.”

  He laughed at that. “Maybe not now, but back in my Diddle days, you wouldn’t have thought twice.”

  “True. I still can’t get over it. I can’t even see Diddle in there.”

  “You sure?”

  He leaned a little closer, smiling that brilliant smile of his that forced the sexiest dimple I’d ever seen. I didn’t even know dimples could be sexy.

  It was his eyes, electric blue and sparking with intelligence — that was where I saw the boy I used to know.

>   Just like that, I was taken back years to the boy who would pick up my pen when it rolled off my desk, the boy who would share his notes with me and give me rides home when Rodney had left me somewhere. His braces were gone, and the softness of his face had filled out into hard lines and full lips. I was left wondering just how I’d missed it, how I’d missed him.

  My smile stretched wider along with my heart. “Oh, there you are.” I cupped his cheek and laid a little kiss on his lips.

  But then his hand found my naked hip and pulled, bringing me closer, and the kiss wasn’t so little anymore.

  I broke away after a moment, breathless. “Jesus, Bodie. I don’t even know if I could have another orgasm.”

  “Is that a challenge? Because I really, really love to win.”

  His hand trailed to the back of my thigh and pulled, slinging my leg over his hip — his cock was already hard again against me.

  “I didn’t get to take my time,” he said, his eyes darkening as his pupils shot open.

  So I did the only thing I could with him looking at me like that, with the hard length of him shifting against my piercing — I let him.

  An hour later, I found myself trying to catch my breath, lying flat on my back with a sweaty Penny splayed across my sweaty chest.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” she panted, her voice gruff.

  I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face to even pretend to be cool. “Then my work here is done.”

  She laughed, and all I could think about was the feeling of her nipple rings against my skin.

  Get a fucking grip, man.

  Of course, then I imagined her gripping me, which didn’t help me stave off another boner. I wasn’t even sure how it was physiologically possible, yet there it was.

  She noticed and propped herself up to look at me, incredulous and amused. “I don’t think my vagina can take any more tonight, Bodie.”

  I smirked. “I can’t either, but it’s got a mind of its own.”

  She laughed as she slid off me — literally, we were soaked — and starfished out next to me on her back. “God, that was good. Can we do it again?”

  I chuckled. “Anytime you want.”

  Penny turned her head to look at me, and I did the same, resting my hand on my chest.

  “I have to warn you though …”

  One of my brows rose. “You come with a warning label?”

  “No, I come with your face between my legs.”

  A laugh burst out of me.

  She smiled. “I don’t date, Bodie. It’s not just for me — I haven’t been serious with anyone in a long time, and … well, that’s not what I’m looking for. I need you to know and agree to it before we go any further.”

  I watched her for a second before answering. Her purple hair was fanned out all around her, her naked, tattooed body stretched out next to me, and right then, I knew I was in trouble.

  The first problem: I’d been crushing on her since I was sixteen.

  The second problem: I was officially obsessed with every inch of her body.

  The third problem: There was no way I would walk away from her after that. Not without putting up a fight.

  But the biggest problem of all was this: I couldn’t put up a fight, or I’d spook her.

  I knew Penny well enough from high school to know that I was playing with fire. And I knew I’d probably get burned if I fell for her, but if I could hang on to her? Well, it’d be worth the risk. Because I wanted more Penny. I wanted more of her smiles. I wanted to know where she’d been and what she wanted out of life. I wanted her in my bed and in my shower and anywhere I could get her. All I had to do was convince her that she wanted the same.

  So I made up my mind and stepped into the lion’s cage with a chair in one hand and a whip in the other.

  “I’m in. No strings.”

  That ruby-red smile widened. “Good. And if you catch feelings, I need to know.”

  “Deal,” I lied, “and you do the same.”

  She laughed at that, a sound that hit me right in the chub. “Oh, I don’t catch feelings. On account of my black heart and all.”

  By the way she was looking at me, I didn’t believe her for a second. But if that was what she thought … well, like I’d said, I loved to win.

  What Would Blanche Do?

  I skipped down the stairs of our building the next morning, whistling “Yankee Doodle” with Veronica and Ramona in my wake.

  “‘Yankee Doodle’? Really?” Ramona called after me.

  I jumped off the last step and spun around, making a whistle show of calling it macaroni, complete with jazz hands.

  Veronica laughed. “I still don’t get why Yankee Doodle would call the feather in his hat pasta.”

  They caught up, and we started down the sidewalk, heading for Tonic — the tattoo parlor a couple of blocks away where we all worked.

  “Well,” I said like the know-it-all I was, “that’s because macaroni used to be a term for fashionable.”

  “How do you know shit like this?” Veronica asked.

  I shrugged. “I just remember useless stuff like that. I hear it once and bam.” I tapped my temple. “Steel trap. Problem is, it doesn’t actually hold important information. Or numbers. Don’t make me try to remember numbers, or math. I cannot math.”

  “We know, honey.” Ramona smiled and patted my arm. “We’ve all seen you try to split a check.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  She didn’t wait for further response. “So, are you going to tell us what happened last night? If I hadn’t woken up late, I would have alarm-clocked you so hard. I need answers.”

  “I can’t say I’m bummed to have missed you jumping on my bed to harass me before I had to be up.”

  Bodie crossed my mind — flashes of his hands and lips and smile and God, I was about him. I smiled to myself.

  I’d left his house sore in all the right places and knees about as stable as quicksand. Once I’d floated home, I’d sunk into my bed and slept like I was dead — no dreams, nothing. I didn’t even think I’d rolled over once.

  I hadn’t been nailed that well in a good long while. And when I’d woken, he had been on my mind.

  I was infatuated. Smitten. Giddy and grinning and gone.

  “Earth to Penny. Anybody in there?” Veronica pinched my arm.

  “Ow!” I rubbed the spot and stuck my tongue out at her.

  “You deserve that. So much for a wingwoman. Your ass barely hit the seat before you disappeared with Blondie.”

  I wrinkled my nose, but I was smiling. “Yeah, sorry. And you’re never going to believe this; I fucking know him.”

  Ramona’s brow quirked. “Well, I mean, that was the guy from the ice cream shop yesterday, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, but also, we went to high school together. I didn’t even recognize him — he looks completely different.”

  “I’d imagine so if you didn’t recognize him,” Veronica said. “No way Blondie wouldn’t have made it onto your radar.”

  “Right? The guy went from Chris Pratt in Parks and Rec, dumping Skittles into his mouth, to Chris Pratt in Guardians of the Galaxy, shirtless and ripped and orange and all mad because they stole his Walkman. Except it’s even less obvious than that. Like, he had glasses and braces and … I don’t even know, man. He was hidden inside of there that whole time. I remembered his eyes the most. Is that weird?”

  “Not at all,” Ramona answered. “When did you figure it out?”

  “When his face was between my legs.”

  They both busted out laughing.

  “Just kidding. It was actually post-face-between-the-legs.”

  Ramona frowned a little. “He wasn’t, like … stalking you or anything, right?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, considering it again. “No, I mean, he seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. But, man, let me tell you, the dude went downtown like it was his only purpose in life.”

  Veronica sighed. “I need to f
ind a boyfriend.”

  “No, you need to find a fuck boy,” I corrected. “Anyway, his name is Bodie, and he has a twin brother named Jude. Maybe his pussy-eating is a genetic trait.” I waggled my brows.

  She laughed and shoved me in the arm. “Ugh, you.”

  I just smiled.

  “Are you going to see him again?” Ramona asked hopefully.

  “I want to.” I felt high, my body still humming and purring his name. “Guys, he kinda blew my mind. I can’t believe I went to high school with him.”

  “So, what’s the story?” Veronica stuffed her hands into the pockets of her black romper, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. Hair in a French twist, high on top, she looked totally elegant and gorgeous and classic, offset by full sleeves, a septum ring, and gauges like mine. I swear, she was the most badass of us all and the least emotionally available.

  “Well, he was friends with Rodney—”

  A collective groan passed over the peanut gallery of two.

  “Just hear me out, for chrissake,” I huffed. “As I was saying, he lived next door to Rodney, and I guess they’d been friends since the second grade or something. But when we hit high school, Rodney turned into a fox and started his band, and Bodie and Jude … well, I guess they were late bloomers. They were always so cute — you know, in that, like, puppy sort of way where you go Aww. But I didn’t even know their real names. I knew them by Diddle and Dee Dee.”

  Veronica’s mouth popped open. “Those nicknames are fucking awful.”

  I chuckled. “I know, trust me. I meant to ask him the story there, but I was way too busy with his dick.”

  They giggled.

  “Guys,” I said on a laugh, “I got diddled by Diddle.”

  I got a solid cackle for that one.

  I shook my head, smiling. “I guess Rodney gave them the nicknames. That’s not altogether surprising. Rodney was a cockjuggler.”

  “So are you,” Ramona teased.

  “It’s true, and I don’t judge a fellow juggler of cocks for their extracurriculars,” I said with a hand out. “He was always kind of shitty to them.” My tone softened a little, the edge all gone as I thought back, wishing I’d seen Bodie back then, wishing he hadn’t just disappeared into my periphery. “They were around a lot — hanging at practice, sometimes at the parties. I just don’t know why they hung around when Rodney was such an asshole to them. He was always teasing them about something, but he was so slick about it, you know? Most of the time, I didn’t know if he was complimenting or cutting me down. Bodie had so much more in common back then than I realized.”