Forever With You (Silver State Series) (7 page)

What seems an interminable amount of time later, Tawny turns her head and angles her face up toward me, her lips parted just slightly.  My eyes lock onto hers, and I freeze, afraid if I move at all she’ll realize what’s going on and flee.  When it appears after a moment that isn’t going to happen, I relax my grip and look down at her lips, which are glistening from her having just licked them.

I glance back up to her eyes, attempting to channel my question telepathically through the intensity of my gaze.  Then, astoundingly, Tawny does the rest of the work for me, leaning up to press her lips against mine.  It takes me a couple of seconds to get over my initial shock and regain my ability to reciprocate.  I move my mouth against hers, savoring the fullness of her lips.

When I suck her bottom lip between my teeth, Tawny lets out the tiniest of whimpers, and a shockwave of desire ripples straight up my spine.  I press in deeper against her, shifting so the computer slides off our laps.  I dig my fingers gently into her waist and bring my right hand up to cup the side of her neck.  Now I’m in my element – no more misgivings or thoughts of what I might do wrong.  I roll over on my side, adjusting myself slightly so my erection isn’t so obvious.

Tawny’s hands twine in my hair as I move my hand to wrap it around the back of her knee and hitch her leg up over my hip.  When I pull back to adjust our positioning she’s panting, and she thrusts her pelvis up against me.  I moan the second she comes in contact with the swollen length of me – now there’s no
way
she isn’t completely aware of my hard-on. 
Fuuuck
.

She wraps her hands around behind me and holds onto my lower back as I drop my lips to kiss her neck.  My hands rove over her wrinkled clothing, yearning to feel
more
of her.  I won’t go there, though – that will be up to her.  I let Tawny serve as our guide, setting the pace.  I’m both disappointed and relieved when she begins to let up and our kisses become less fevered – disappointed because my cock would’ve been more than happy to keep going and fuck her right here, right now; relieved because it’s totally clear to the portion of my brain still capable of reason this would not be a good idea.

Tawny pulls back just as the credits begin to roll on the movie.  Her face is flushed, and her hair is spread out around her in tangled waves.  She’s propped up on one elbow, her chest rising and falling as she looks anywhere but directly at me.

Desperate to make her understand the mixture of excitement, desire and affection I’m currently experiencing, I take her chin in my hand and turn her head to face me.  Her blue eyes are clouded with uncertainty when she finally looks at me, but slowly they clear and her shoulders relax as she discerns the complete lack of regret in my own gaze.

The movie ends and the display on my laptop shuts off.  We sit still in the darkness for a few minutes, my hand still resting on the slight curve of Tawny’s hip.  I listen as her breathing evens out, wondering what I’ll do if she falls asleep in my bed.  What I
should
do and what I more than likely
would
do seem to be two different things.

I’m stirred from my contemplation, however, when Tawny shifts and says softly, “I should get back.”

 

Tawny – Saturday, 11:00 PM

K
yle left his Jeep idling in the road on the side of Argenta Hall while he walked me up to the front doors.  I thanked him for dinner, and he thanked me for coming over.  I was shivering, though in my head it felt more like convulsing, my nerves thrumming with anticipation and the uncertainty of whether he would try to kiss me again.  When he did, I’m sure he was able to feel the stiffness in my lips, even as I worked to loosen up and kiss him back.  My body has never longed for anything more.

I ride the elevator up to the sixth floor and quietly let myself in, the searing sensation of Kyle’s lips still lingering on mine.  Beatrix is in her bed asleep, but Harumi’s loft is empty – I recall her saying something about going to a party tonight.

Slowly I undress myself, taking pains to keep quiet as I discard my shorts and top in the hamper and step into my standard nighttime apparel of boxer shorts and t-shirt.  When I turn around and see Kyle’s Redskins cap laying in the center of my bed I silently curse myself for having failed to return it to him – I had laid it there specifically so I wouldn’t forget.

I lie down on my back, still too warm from our heated make out session to climb under the covers.  I hold my phone above me and tap out a quick text message to Rhiannon letting her know I had a good time and I’d call her tomorrow.  Then I send a text to Kyle:

 

I’m an idiot.  I keep forgetting to give your hat back to you.

 

A minute later he responds:

 

My hat?

 

Your Redskins cap.  You left it in my car that night after Jared’s party.

 

Oh wow, that’s my favorite hat.  I thought I’d lost it.

 

Don’t worry it’s safe.  Remind me next time I see you
.

 

OK.  Thanks Tawny. 

 

A moment later my phone lights up with another message from him.

 

I had a really good time tonight.  Let’s do it again sometime.

 

I hold my breath and cover my eyes with my elbow, determined to ward off the blush that’s threatening to creep into my cheeks, even though no one can see me.

 

Me too.  Sounds good.

 

I roll over and plug my phone into the charger, then try to get some sleep.

 

Kyle – Sunday, 1:45 AM

M
y mind is racing – doesn’t look like I’ll be getting to sleep any time soon.  I can’t stop replaying earlier events in my head, especially lying here in a bed that still smells like Tawny’s shampoo.

She didn’t seem nearly as inexperienced as I expected her to be – I don’t remember her dating anyone in high school.  I can’t be sure, but if I had to guess I’d say she’d done this stuff before… I wonder with whom?

Chapter 7 – Meaningless

Friday & Saturday, August 26 & 27

 

Kyle – Friday, 9:00 PM

I
prop my chin in my hand and drum my fingers against my desk as I study the photo on my computer monitor.  The first week of classes was a lot more demanding than I had been expecting, so I’m only just now getting around to editing the shots I took at the freshman mixer last week.  I flick back through the thumbnails at the bottom of the screen while a paper container of Chinese takeout sits on my desk and grows cold.

I slow down when I reach the series of pictures I took of Tawny, and my pulse quickens.  I haven’t seen her since she came over last Saturday.  We’ve texted back and forth a few times, but I’ve purposely kept my distance, not trusting myself to be around her again just yet. 

I continue scrolling and pause on my favorite capture.  Tawny’s face is turned to the side, and her even white teeth are exposed in a grin directed at one of her roommates.  The golden pink light from the evening sun breaks against her bare shoulders and catches her eyes in a way that makes them seem to sparkle.  My dick jerks to life in my jeans as I stare at her likeness and feel the rush of memories from last weekend come crashing back to me for the hundredth time this week.

I concentrate on clearing my head, focusing on the light and color in the photo rather than the subject matter.  I slide some bars within my computer program to adjust the tone and contrast, then experiment with converting it to black and white.  The monochromatic version makes Tawny’s eyes pop, but it doesn’t do justice to the rich color of her hair.

Frustrated, I shove back from my desk and stand up, pressing my fingertips against the inside corners of my eyes while I attempt to get a grip.  Mentally I calculate when the last time was I had sex – three weeks ago?  Four?  Yeah, that has to be it.

I gather a change of clothes and head to the hall bathroom to shower.  I turn the water as hot as it will go, undressing as the room fills with steam.  Once I’m naked I climb into the tub and turn the jet of water on my body.  I lather a bar of soap between my hands and scrub at my chest and shoulders, then work my way south.  When my soapy hand finds the shaft of my cock, I begin to stroke it without really realizing what I’m doing.  I use my other hand to lean against the tiled wall as I massage from base to tip, my mind flooding with images of Tawny.  I envision what she would look like naked – her full tits, her flat stomach, the round cheeks of her ass.  I picture her straddling me as I sink into her…

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell am I doing?  I lean into my elbow, squeezing my eyes shut as the hot water pelts against my back, straining to clear my head as I finish myself off.  I watch in disgust as the white fluid shoots out of me and swirls down the drain.

Fuck this, this isn’t me.  I don’t pine for girls.

Hurriedly I finish with my shower and yank on my clean change of clothes.  There’s only one solution to this fucked up situation…

 

Friday, 10:30 PM

A
n hour later I’m walking in the front door of a house party that’s already in full swing.  Les was tied up with Leila tonight, so I’m here with Nick, a friend I met in my Rock and Roll Theory elective last year.

Within minutes of crossing the threshold I have a Jack and Coke in my hand, and my eyes are sweeping the female guests in search of someone who can put me out of my misery.

Let me clarify, I’m not typically a sexual predator like this.  I don’t go out looking for sex – I let it find me.  And up till now that’s worked out pretty well for me.  Jerking off in my shower to a mental picture of Tawny Read, however, was a wakeup call of epic proportion.  The ideal solution, obviously, would have consisted of somehow tracking down Tawny herself and fucking her until we both found our release.  Since that can’t happen, though, this was the best thing I could come up with.

Now all I have to do is hang back until I can catch the eye of someone who seems willing.

 

Tawny – Friday, 10:45 PM

I
had hoped maybe Kyle would call and ask me to do something this weekend, but so far he hasn’t.  We’ve exchanged a few text messages this week, but our conversation has never deviated from superficial questions like “How is your week?” or “What’s your favorite class so far?”

When Beatrix asked Harumi and me to go to a party with her tonight I was halfway tempted to say no, just in case Kyle called and wanted to hang out.  Convincing myself this line of thinking was not only stupid but naïve, however, I agreed to go along.

There aren’t all that many people here.  I’m sitting on a couch in the basement nursing a White Russian, watching Harumi thoroughly vanquish some guy at pool while another guy tries desperately to engage me in conversation.  Not wanting to be rude, I turn to face him and offer an “Mmhmm” or an “Oh really?” where called for.  I don’t put much more into it than that, answering his questions with the fewest number of words possible.  When he finally gives up on me and walks away I feel a pang of guilt and hope I didn’t come across as disrespectful.  It wasn’t him necessarily – I just don’t do well in party situations, as I’ve explained.

Harumi finishes one game of pool and begins racking the balls to start another, more than ready to take on her next opponent.  I take that as my cue to go up and get some fresh air – the air in the basement is dank and musty.

I’m relieved when I walk out the door in the kitchen to find the small patch of backyard deserted.  I sit down on the concrete stoop and set my still half full cup between my feet, then pull out my phone to check the time.  I wonder how much longer Beatrix and Harumi will want to stick around – I’m not sure how smart it would be for me to walk back alone.  Then I scold myself for thinking that way.  I should at least be trying to enjoy myself.  Rhiannon would remind me this is a golden opportunity to meet new friends.

I swipe my finger across my phone’s display and tap on the icon for Facebook.  I tell myself I’ll just kill a few minutes while I cool off a bit, then head back inside with renewed commitment to act more social than I feel.

I scroll down through my newsfeed, reading about other people’s weekend plans.  Becca, my friend from Winnemucca who’s now at UCLA, is on her way to San Diego.  Blake and Rhiannon are in Sacramento for a concert, and Leila Anderson is on a date with Les.  I keep scrolling, stopping when my eyes land on Kyle’s name.  His profile picture was taken at a lake – maybe Tahoe?  He’s shirtless, suspended in midair above the deep blue water, having apparently just jumped from the wooden dock behind him.  I inspect the picture closely, admiring the hard planes of his chest and the defined lines of his stomach muscles.  His wall says he’s attending a party at 43 Claymore Street… Of course he is.  I sigh to myself.  I’m sure he’s having a great time, dancing and drinking and doing all the things you’re supposed to do at parties, while I sit here by myself, wishing I could disappear.

Who was I kidding, thinking we could be in any way compatible?

 

Kyle – Saturday, 8:30 AM

G
etting shit-faced hadn’t been a part of my plan.  I can already feel the dull ache seated deep in my skull before I open my eyes and the light streaming through the unfamiliar window makes it ten times worse.  Fuck, I’m never doing shots again.

I prop myself up on my elbows and look down at my legs tangled in the sheets with someone else’s.  My neck feels stiff as I turn my head to see the girl sleeping next to me – I’m pretty sure her name is Andrea.  I’d never seen her before last night, but she was certainly more than willing to do anything I asked her to.

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