Forever and Never

by Ella Fields

  Lars grunted. “Where’re your keys?”

  I sat up then, still fully clothed, and brushed my hair back from my head. “What? Why?”

  He opened his bedroom door, disappearing for a minute.

  I set his phone down, then fell back and rolled my face into his pillow, thinking I should go home but too curious about whatever the hell it was he was doing.

  Keys jangled, then he was lifting me from the bed.

  When I squeaked, he shushed me. “Mom’s home tonight.”

  “Put me down.” I smacked at his back, but my legs were already wrapped around his mid-section. It would seem my body had a mind of its own as my arms tightened around his neck and shoulders.

  After snagging some money from his nightstand, he walked through the house and out the door, then unlocked my car and dumped me into the passenger seat.

  “Whoa,” I breathed when he climbed into the driver’s side. “You’re not driving. You’ve been smoking.”

  “Chill,” he said, moving the seat back and adjusting the mirror. “I’m fine now, and it’s only around the block.”

  I groaned, imagining him saying that on some episode of Cops, and sank low into the seat. “Where are we going anyway?”

  We were there before he could even bother answering, which he didn’t.

  The fuel station was empty, save for the gum snapping attendant behind a window of hard plastic.

  Taking my hand, Lars dragged me to the ice-cream section, where he said, “Close your eyes.” I did, and his hands slid around me from behind, his front solid warmth at my back. “Good. Now run your hand over the tubs and grab one at random.”

  Cold air blew over me. “What if it sucks?”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  I didn’t like the idea but chose to humor him anyway. My fingers skated over the icy tubs, and I counted four until I decided to pick.

  I opened my eyes. “Chunky Monkey. Blegh.”

  “Have you tried it?” Lars asked.

  “Yes.” I crinkled my nose as he grabbed the Chocolate Fudge Brownie. “I want that one.”

  “I thought you would.” He grinned and the door slapped shut as we moved on to the candy.

  Nabbing a bag of licorice and suckers, he then drifted to the checkout, and I floated behind him, a moth drawn to a flame that would set me on fire if I wasn’t careful.

  And I knew, despite what reassurances I told myself, that I wasn’t being careful.

  Back in his room, he stacked pillows against the light wood headboard, and then grabbed some spoons.

  We settled in, and the TV above his dresser flickered to life, an episode of Family Guy playing.

  He handed me the chocolate fudge and tore the lid off the Chunky Monkey. “Do you even like that flavor?”

  “Love it,” he said around a glob of ice cream.

  I smirked, digging at mine. “Where’d you go tonight?”

  “Skate park.” It was on the tip of my tongue to ask who he was there with, but I thankfully didn’t have to. “With some of the guys.”

  “Do you skate? Or just ride your bike?”

  “Mainly just ride. Skating’s cool, but I’m not as good at it.”

  I nodded. “And doing things you’re not good at is a bad thing?”

  Lars was quiet a moment. “Suppose it’s not.” He knocked my foot with his sock-covered one. “You don’t play sports?”

  “I used to cheer, but I never really liked it.”

  Lars was smiling at the TV when I glanced over a minute later, and I had a feeling it had nothing to do with the show.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  He tsk’d. “Bossy.”

  I shoved a large spoonful of ice cream inside my mouth, and his eyelids drooped as he watched my lips and tongue wrap around the cold silverware.

  He cursed, then put his tub aside and scrubbed his face. “I remember is all.”

  “Remember what?” It took a moment. “Oh, the cheerleading?”

  He grinned. “Yep. That skirt and the way it barely covered your ass.” He groaned. “Kind of glad you don’t do it anymore.”

  I was about to reprimand him for saying that when he took my ice cream and set it down. Then he was over top of me, his eyes meeting mine for half a second before his tongue swept inside my mouth, and he sucked at mine.

  My hands went to his back, lifting his shirt so I could rub my fingers over the smooth skin, the dents and bulges of his muscles as he settled between my legs and started rocking.

  I tore my lips off his. “Take your jeans off.” His heavy breath blew over my lips as he struggled with indecision. “I’ll take mine off too.”

  Once they were gone, I thought we’d reconnect, but he took it further than I thought he would by ripping off his shirt and briefs, and then my tank and panties.

  I unclasped my bra, though one of the straps stayed tangled around my arm, and felt my lungs expand to dangerous levels as he aligned every part of our bodies, and hooked my leg around his back.

  My foot brushed over his smooth ass, and my nails dug fervently at his sides, back, and upper arms. I needed to touch all of him. It was a compulsion. A need stronger than obsession.

  I wanted all of him all over me, inside me, and melded to me.

  As if he felt the same, his arms scooped behind my back, our chests meeting, hearts beating hard together.

  I lost count of how many curses vacated Lars as his cock dug between my folds, rock hard and wet from my want but never entering my body.

  “I want to come every way possible with you,” he said beneath my chin, kissing along my neck. “You drive me to the brink of madness simply by touching me,” he said between kisses. “And I just know once I’ve had you, it’s going to send me over.”

  I could hardly breathe as he kept nudging against my core. “Touch me. Your fingers. Make me come.”

  He didn’t, no matter how much I begged him to, but it didn’t matter. Some long minutes later, I came anyway. We were both delirious as the sun began to glow beneath the night sky, and we fumbled and touched and came over and over, connecting in every other way we could.

  Daphne

  “You can’t have sausages without gravy,” Lars said over the sound of them snapping in the frying pan.

  “I disagree.”

  “Of course, you do.”

  “Salad and a side of pasta,” I suggested.

  “Mashed potatoes and green beans.”

  I made a gagging sound.

  Lars shot me a dark look over his shoulder. “Careful, Cotton. Or I’ll give you something worth gagging over.”

  I bit my lip.

  He groaned. “Can’t even make a damn meal without you trying to kill me.”

  “I’m not sucking your dick,” I said. “At least, not until I’ve finished this chapter and you’ve fed me.”

  Lars snorted. “Why are you even reading those? You don’t have to, you know. Mom likes you.”

  “I want to. They’re really good.” I’d already read two of the four I’d taken home with me two nights ago. Well, it was technically morning when I’d last left his house, and I’d freaked about not having enough time to get ready for school. And the fact that Mom or Dad might grill me about where I’d been.

  I’d only had one missed call from Dad, though, and he’d already left for work when I’d raced inside and upstairs to my room.

  Lars tapped the tongs against the pan, switching it off. “You like romance novels?”

  “And scrapbooking.” I took a sip of water and turned the page. “Surprised?”

  “You know what?” He laughed. “Not even a little bit.”

  I raised a brow, though I kept up my ruse of reading the book. Because he had my full attention. Every word and every movement. “Sure, sure.”

  He set three plates down on the counter, and I was guessing Glenda would eat when she got home from work, then began mashing the potatoes at the sink.


  I gulped as I watched him add dollop after dollop of butter to the pot but kept my mouth shut.

  “I’m not sure many guys your age would know how to cook.”

  “I’m sure there’re plenty,” he said, taking the butter back to the fridge.

  “Fine, but not at Magnolia Cove.”

  “I’ll give you that,” he said. “Though I doubt many chicks there would know or bother either.” He raised a brow at me.

  “A challenge?” I stood.

  He chuckled. “Not at all. Sit your sexy ass down.”

  I bookmarked the page, then shoved him out of the way.

  “You’re holding it wrong.”

  I growled and readjusted my hold on the masher, then began mashing the butter-drenched potatoes. “Wow,” I said. “This is oddly satisfying.”

  “Whose balls are you pretending to bust?” Lars asked, plating some sausages and beans.

  “Never you mind.”

  “Wait a minute.” He cursed. “They’d better be mine.”

  Laughing, I let go of the masher and pot.

  “Shit, you’re going to drop it.” He jumped over and grabbed it before it slipped off the counter, where I’d knocked it to the edge.

  In doing so, the masher flipped out, and on its way to the floor, sent potato splattering over my cheeks and over his arm.

  I dragged my finger over his skin, then licked it. “Yum, I did good.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I did good, you mean.”

  I shrugged and went back to the table.

  Grabbing me from behind before I could make it, Lars pressed me up against the fridge.

  He licked every bit of potato from my face, then his lips were on mine, my ass was on the counter, and our dinner went cold as his tongue got carried away and ended up between my legs.

  School was a different story.

  For as much as I was enjoying myself—probably way too much—I was still hesitant to put a label on whatever it was we were doing.

  Which meant I dodged him in public more than I saw him in an effort to keep from fighting again.

  I wasn’t embarrassed. I doubt there’d be any girl on the planet who’d be embarrassed to be seen with Lars Bradby.

  I just wasn’t ready.

  That didn’t stop us from meeting between classes on a handful of occasions. Until Peggy caught us and looked as if she was about to start taking notes on the spot.

  “I can’t believe Peggy got busted,” Willa said, applying a nude gloss to her lips.

  The driver hit a pothole, and she growled before shutting her compact mirror and sliding it inside her purse.

  I knew who it was who’d likely ratted our girl out, but I chose to keep my thoughts to myself.

  Dash and Peggy were a walking surety, but god only knew how long it would be before they woke up and actually did something about it instead of fucking around.

  “I wonder how long she’ll be grounded for.”

  “Hopefully not long. It’s her birthday next weekend, and we’ve got the surprise party Dash has been planning at her dad’s place.”

  I inspected my teeth and lips in the camera of my phone. “Then she’ll only be grounded until then.”

  “We need a scrapbooking date, asap.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “Hopefully after her party.”

  The car pulled up outside Wade’s mansion by the bay, and we crossed the street, our heels clipping over the asphalt as the bass coming from inside the large house rattled my bones.

  I paused at the end of his drive. “Jesus Christ, how many people are here?”

  Willa’s large eyes bugged as she surveyed the crowd. So many people were coming and going that you could hardly even see the front lawn.

  Her arm linked with mine, and together, we moved through the throng, heading inside to find a drink.

  There wasn’t much available, which was understandable, given the number of people here were twice the usual amount. Wade was known for throwing big parties and often too, being that his parents spent most of their time in London and Paris for work and hardly lived here.

  “Ladies,” the man himself said, two cigarettes between his lips and a bottle of whiskey in hand. “I apologize for the lack of amenities.” A girl jostled him as she and her friends left the kitchen. Wade shoved the bottle toward me. “Would you care for some whiskey?”

  I shook my head, glancing around. “No, thanks.”

  “Why are you smoking two cigarettes?” Willa asked.

  Wade blinked, then withdrew them from his lips and stared down at them. “Would you look at that.”

  Willa laughed, and I dragged her with me upstairs in search of something to drink. If I’d had known it’d be this big, I would’ve stolen my own from the bar at home before coming.

  We found a dusty bottle of wine in a gift bag inside one of the guest room closets, and I tore the cap off, thankful it didn’t need a corkscrew.

  Willa took a sip and cringed. “Ack, warm.”

  I did the same. “Gross.”

  We laughed as we pinched our noses and took turns swigging from the bottle, then we took it with us downstairs.

  Outside, Jackson stopped Willa, taking the bottle of wine from her.

  I snatched it from him before he could toss it into the pool, then flinched when a pair of lips hit my shoulder.

  I was wearing a flowing rose red dress that reached mid-thigh and black peep toe heels, my hair down but sitting over my right shoulder.

  I turned and stepped back, almost losing my footing when I remembered Jackson was there, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw he and Willa were gone.

  Lars took a swig of beer, then eyed my wine bottle. “Are you drinking all of that?”

  I waved at a girl who sat near me in geography, then lifted the warm liquid to my lips. “I was sharing it with Willa, but now that she’s gone, I suppose I’ll have to.”

  He didn’t seem to like the sound of that but said nothing, mouth pinched tight as I took a few more hearty gulps, then lowered the bottle. “Tastes like ass.”

  “You know what ass tastes like?”

  “Huh?” I yelled over the music, unable to catch what he’d said.

  “I said, you know what ass tastes like?” The music changed right in the middle of his question, and we both looked around before bursting out laughing.

  “Cotton,” he said, moving close and curling some of my hair behind my ear. “Kiss me.”

  I blinked at his lips, and then stared up into his eyes, but when I heard laughter and catcalls behind me, I pulled away.

  And then I walked down onto the lawn.

  He followed me, a cloud of anger stalking after a fading sun. “Are we seriously still there?”

  “Still where?” I asked, nearing the edge of Wade’s yard, my heels meeting the grains of sand imbedded in the grass.

  Lars grabbed my elbow and turned me to him. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  I took a sip of wine. “I’m not sure I do.”

  His nostrils flared. He finished his beer, eyes never leaving mine as he tossed it to the sand. “So you won’t care if I kiss the first girl I see?”

  I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” When I saw he was far from kidding, I flicked my hand at him. “Fine, do whatever you want.”

  I’d seen him angry before—also frustrated, happy, aroused, sad, and tired—but the look that glided over his face at that moment, sharpening every prominent feature, was none of those things.

  It was menacing, defiant, challenging, and capable of robbing every breath I tried to expel.

  In a flash, he was stalking across the yard, and then he paused, grabbed some random blonde by the hand, and managed to make her laugh.

  I couldn’t see anything, only the hand gestures he was making and the sly smiles they were exchanging.

  She must have attended the public school because I didn’t recognize her. That didn’t stop my fingers from curling with the urge to pluck every strand of hair from her
head.

  My stomach somersaulted when she swayed into him, her head thrown back with glee, as her friends all kept chatting behind the brand-new couple before them.

  It was then I knew he would do it.

  He would actually kiss someone else to rile me up.

  I tried to keep still. Tried to look away when their foreheads met and his hands crawled around her back, pulling her little body flush with his.

  Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way over there, the bottle of wine slipping from my fingers and falling someplace behind me.

  Right before their lips could touch, I grabbed his ear and white T-shirt, hauling him back.

  “Fuck,” he cried, his hand pulling mine away and rubbing his earlobe. “Took you long enough.”

  The blonde looked back and forth between us, her brown eyes confused and wary.

  I waved at her. “Go back to your friends. This one was just using you to prove a point.”

  She scowled at Lars, then flipped him off and turned back to her friends, explaining, if their raised brows and opened mouths were any indication.

  “I think I’m bleeding.” He inspected his hand, and I winced when I saw there was a little blood on it.

  “Serves you right, asshole.” I then slapped him for good measure and marched back to the house to look for Willa.

  I couldn’t find her, and when I pulled out my phone to call her, I saw she’d sent me a text saying she wasn’t feeling well and had gone home.

  What-freaking-ever.

  After booking an Uber, I stood out front to wait for it while I tried to calm the boiling of my blood. Within a minute, he appeared. “Fuck off.”

  “Never.” He took my hand and pulled me to his chest, his eyes smiling before his lips followed. “You wanna know why?”

  “Not particularly.”

  He huffed, squeezing me to him when I tried to push off his chest. “You’re a liar, Daphne Morris.”

  “I’m no such thing.”

  The Uber pulled up, and I tried to pry myself from his hold, but he wouldn’t let me. “You’re not getting in that thing until we’ve talked.”

  “I think I will be. Now kindly let the fuck go.”

  “Daphne, for shit’s sake. Be real with me. Please.”