“Maybe,” she says, her voice lighter and more innocent than I’ve ever heard it. I slowly feel her begin to move with me, at first tentative and sporadic and then she starts to catch my rhythm and we sync and she’s perfect. I reach down for her clit and move my fingers against her as I start to go deeper and she starts moaning.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I tell her. “So fucking tight.”
She begins to move faster with me.
“You like that baby?” I ask her, and she whimpers “Yes” as I push deeper into her, and she gasps.
“Fuck, sorry,” I tell her, freezing, and she scowls at me before breaking a small smile.
“It’s okay,” she says breathlessly. I start to rub her clit faster and slow down as I feel myself about to come, and I want her to come with me.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads, moving her body and clenching me.
“Then don’t do that,” I tell her and she grins, biting her lip.
“You mean this?” she asks, clenching around me again, a satisfied grin on her face.
“Fuck, Alana,” I moan and push deeper into her. She calls out my name and I know I’m going to be addicted to her moaning in my ear. I rub against her clit until her breath hitches and it starts to throb, so I push myself deeper into her again and feel her, pulsing, clenching around me, and I come next. We both catch our breath, and I realize this plan backfired. I didn’t fuck her out of my mind, I’ve invited her in and she’s going to fucking live there.
Chapter 4
Megan
I’m here.
This is life now.
There were days where I’d sit in one of a dozen of homes I lived in and stare up at the sky and wonder if things would ever get better, if there was ever going to be an up. After I turned twelve I gave up the dream of my parents showing up and saving me from whatever nightmare I had lived, but I had hope from the books I read and the movies I’d watch—which were a luxury because when you’re a foster kid you get everything after the real family does. Either by order or by the sense of the standing order of the house, but those stories I read or saw usually gave the person a happy ending. I wasn’t sure I deserved a happy ending then. That’s not what so many foster parents and siblings told me. Encouragement and development wasn’t what I pulled from in my cards but I think it’s human to have hope and if I’ve ever been anything I’ve been human, flawed, bound to make mistakes, but persevering. Around Kam I feel like a goddess. He makes me feel like there’s nothing I can’t do, no feat I can’t accomplish. It’s jarring coming from where I have but it’s addicting. Having someone who believes in you, who sees the good in you, who doesn’t look at you with pity—or worse, like you’re dirt underneath their shoe. Since our first date Kam and I have been inseparable.
I wake up to Kam sitting next to me naked, just a sheet covering him. Knowing his body was on me and in me, that we were a part of each other, gives me a whole new appreciation of every etched muscle in his body.
I’ve never felt more safe than being in Kam’s arms. I’ve never felt love before and he gives it to me every day. Kisses line my shoulder and I can’t fight the smile on my face.
“Call off,” he begs, still half asleep, wrapping his arms around me.
“I can’t.” I laugh as he turns me towards him.
“Yes, you can,” he tells me, squeezing my waist. I could stay with him all day wrapped up in his love like a blanket if I could.
“I can’t, I’m only on schedule for two days at the store. And you work this afternoon. Your dad’s going to kill you if you’re late,” I tease him, sliding regretfully out of his grasp.
“Maybe you can convince him to go easy on me.” He rolls over and watches me with a boyish grin as I grab my clothes, his gaze playful.
“I’m sure he’d love that,” I tell him with a laugh. I talked to his parents on the phone last week. Katie put me on FaceTime fresh off of morning sex with their son and headed for a glass of water, and I almost died. I’ve had embarrassing moments but that was almost top ten, and next week I meet them for dinner.
That’s going to be the end for you.
“He’ll love you as much as I do.” I freeze.
Did he just say what I think he said? I turn towards him. He’s sitting up in bed now wearing a smile that makes my heart dance, the sun from the window shining down on him like he’s an angel. He’s my angel for sure.
“What did you say?” He walks towards me, each step making me weaker for him. He pulls me to him. His muscles flex and cause my thoughts to scatter, but my heart is stuck on his previous words. Was it imagined? Is he joking?
“I love you, Megan. I wanted to say it weeks ago. I think I knew it the day I laid eyes on you, the first time I kissed you, and if I wasn’t able to tell you, it’d be my biggest regret.” It’s been four months since we met, two since I gave him a gift I’ve cherished for so long, and a month of sleeping in the same bed. I’ve felt so many things, so many emotions for so long—but most of all, with him the anxiety is settled, the voices are low…the memories aren’t gone, but faded. I’d think that’s love and I’ve felt it for him for so long.
“I love you too, Kam. You’re the first person I’ve ever loved, the best person, the only.”
Not the best, you’re the worst.
A light pink floral dress that sits just above the knees, small stud earrings, and tan ballet flats is the outfit I’m hoping will be the icing on the cake for Kam’s parents to like me. I’ll aim for them to at least tolerate me. I’m so nervous but Kam and Katie have both told me to not worry, that their parents are ecstatic to see me. I hope they’re right. I hope their parents are as kind as their children are.
“You look amazing! It’s going to be fine,” Gabriella says, putting the final touches on my makeup. “Not too much, okay?” I remind her.
“Girl I know, I’m keeping you classy, conservative, and chic,” she tells me with a wink. I see that my hair is in loose curls as I’m looking in the mirror she hands me. My makeup is perfect light blush, flawless skin, and baby pink lips.
“You did an awesome job,” I tell her, genuinely impressed. She’s come a long way in the three months from when she first did my makeup. She’s even gotten a few steady clients.
“Thank you hun. Now let me take a pic!” She has her phone out and is snapping a photo of me before I can give her permission. I hate taking pictures but she’s doing it for free and I at least owe her that. She takes two, one of me smiling. I stand and smooth out my dress and double check I have everything in my bag. There’s a knock at the door; Gabriella yells that she’s got it. When I enter the living room, Kam’s standing there and I still think how lucky I am that he’s mine. He’s even more handsome today wearing a powder-blue button-up, a dark blazer, and matching pants.
“Make sure you turn on the alarm in the car, even when you’ll just be a few minutes,” she’s telling him in a motherly tone.